Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“Coffee it is,” he says, leading me forward, and to my surprise, he folds our elbows and pulls me to him. “I’m holding on,” he declares. “I’m not letting you dart away.”
“Don’t be an asshole and I won’t.”
He laughs, a low, deep, masculine laugh that I feel in every part of me. “I can’t make a promise I might not keep.” He lifts our joined hands and kisses mine. “And I never make a promise I don’t keep, nor do I say anything I don’t mean.”
He lets those words linger between us during our short walk, and I decide they’re meant to drive home what he’s already stated. We are not enemies. We want the same things. We want each other. All words that mean more as my connection with this man grows more intimate. That doesn’t mean I proceed blindly or without caution.
We reach the door of the coffee shop, that really was just around a corner in one of the buildings along our path. He releases me and opens the door. “Ladies first,” he says motioning me forward.
“Honor and manners,” I comment. “If you weren’t such an asshole someone might think you were a nice guy.” I step in front of him, a memory punching at my mind. “But don’t worry, Reid. I listened to what you said to me after the call I heard between you and the DA. I won’t make the mistake of believing you’re a nice guy. If I did, I’d be in your apartment right now, and I’m not.” And with that, I walk into the coffee shop.
Reid
I stand at the door for a just a moment after Carrie enters the coffee shop, and I ask myself why I don’t want her to expect the worst of me when that’s exactly what I wanted only days ago. Hate means we fuck and move on and that’s what I do. I fuck. I move on. No one is ever hurt that way because I never claim to be anything but an asshole. But damn it, this woman is not every other woman. She’s under my skin. She’s in my head. I need to get her out before this becomes a problem, but for once in my life, I can’t seems to be in my vocabulary.
Entering the coffee shop, I scan to find us being the only patrons before joining Carrie at the counter where we order our drinks, the awareness between us jumping around like a live charge. When it comes time to pay, Carrie reaches for the purse at her hip. I catch her hand, honestly stunned that she’s trying to pay after all that she assumes that I’ve taken from her. “I’ve got it.”
“Thank you,” she says, those emerald eyes meeting mine, a hint of something in their depths I don’t understand, but I want to. Seems that I want a lot of things with this woman that I shouldn’t want.
Reluctantly I break our connection and turn my attention to the register. I pay for the coffees, and together Carrie and I walk to the end of the bar to wait for our order. I reach for her fingers and walk her to me, stroking a strand of hair from her face.
She catches my hand, her gaze probing, and this time I read confusion in her eyes. I’m confusing her, which isn’t a surprise. I’m right there with her, confused as fuck about what I’m doing with this woman. “Let’s sit,” I say, leading her toward a corner booth with a high back that blocks us from the rest of the room. It may not offer complete privacy, but it’s the closest thing we’ll get here until I convince her to come home with me.
“Drinks up!”
The shout comes before I even sit down. I cross the small space between me and the counter, grab the coffees and return to the booth where I slide into the seat beside Carrie, setting them down in front of us. “What are we doing, Reid?” she asks, our bodies automatically turning toward each other.
“You keep asking that.”
“You keep making me ask it,” she counters.
“We’re going to talk, though in fairness, I should tell you that I’m one wrong push left or right from taking you into the bathroom and fucking you.” I grab her leg and pull her closer. “It would take a very small push.”
She covers my hand on her leg. “Talking means answering my question in a meaningful way. What are we doing, Reid?”
“Apparently not fucking.”
“Because I don’t want to get fucked over.”
My hand slides to her face. “That’s not what this is. This is not about some agenda. This is just us. Not the company. Not a family name.”
“My family name is on the line.”
“Not with me or because of me,” I say, wishing like fuck it had nothing to do with my family. I lean in and brush my lips over hers. She rewards me with a shiver that travels her body and radiates into me. “I have no agenda with you, Carrie, besides wanting you.”