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)
Reid must feel it too. He strokes my hair and whispers in my ear. “Hold on.” He shifts, and before I know his intent, he’s adjusting his pants that he never took off, and standing up with me in his arms.
He walks inside the cottage. “Where do you think the bathroom would be?” he murmurs.
I try to look, but I really can’t see anything. “The bedroom has to have one,” I say.
“And since I don’t know where that is, the kitchen it is.”
I laugh. “The kitchen?”
“Sure. There are paper towels, we hope, and we can fuck on the counter while we’re there.”
“Even you can’t be ready for that yet,” I tease.
“You underestimate me with you, baby, but I see a door that might be a bedroom. We’re going for it.”
He walks in whatever direction he walks and I just hold on, which works out well. Soon I’m being set on a pale gray and white swirled bathroom sink, and Reid is pressing a towel between us. It’s a few beats later, when I’ve tossed the towel in a hamper, and I’m sitting naked on that counter. With him still in his pants, I feel the absence of my clothes.
Reid presses his hands on the sink beside me. “If I wanted you to hate me, I would make you hate me and it wouldn’t be subtle, or by way of Elijah. I have that in me. You know that.”
I know instantly that he’s not trying to shock me or drive me away. He’s being honest in a way that is raw and real, which matters to me. He matters to me. “Yes,” I say, “I know, and no, it doesn’t scare me, or I wouldn’t be here. Neither does the Elijah confession.”
“It wasn’t a confession,” he corrects. “It was a statement of fact.”
“That you didn’t make from the beginning,” I counter. “That says you didn’t want to tell me.”
“Because I wasn’t after your hate, as you accused me when we got here.”
“There was no reason for you to hold that back. I need you to shoot straight with me and trust me to handle even the rough stuff. I’m not unreasonable. I’m not sensitive or emotional. You didn’t know she was married. I believe you.”
He studies me for several beats, his expression indiscernible, his jaw hard, before he says, “Let’s put on some comfortable clothes and take a walk on the beach.”
I know instantly that I’m not the only one who feels naked right now. The walk isn’t about romance or conversation. It’s about escape, but it’s not a shut door, or he wouldn’t be taking me with him. And I’m coming to believe that I’m about the only person Reid Maxwell hasn’t shut out of his life and I hope that one day soon, he’ll trust me enough to tell me why.
Chapter forty-two
Carrie
“Awalk sounds good,” I say, and I swear I feel the relief wash over Reid. I’m right. He’s suffocating right now, but it still doesn’t feel like it’s about me. It feels like it’s an internal war he’s battling now, and perhaps for a long time. That I see it at all, matters. He’s letting me. I wouldn’t see it if he wasn’t letting me.
He kisses me and helps me to the floor, surprising me by grabbing a big towel from beside a huge, claw foot tub and wrapping it around my shoulders, but he doesn’t let it go, even when I grab hold of it. “I’ll grab our bags,” he says.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Thanks?”
“For the towel.”
His eyes warm. “One of the few times I’ll ever cover you up, so don’t get used to it.” He releases me and walks out of the bathroom.
I follow him, entering the master bedroom, which is stunning, with the same black wood floors, and a massive bed with a unique navy-blue leather frame. Two blue leather chairs sit in front of a large patio with parted blue curtains. I stare at that window and I think about the lower level patio and replay that moment when I’d tried to drop to my knees and he’d stopped me: As many fantasies as I’ve had that involve your mouth on my body, now is not that time. This is about us, feeling us, not me feeling you. If there has been any moment with Reid where I felt like we were more than sex—ironically considering we were having sex at the time—it was that one.
He walks back into the room with the bags in hand and I swear when his eyes meet mine, I feel like I’m punched with emotions. He feels it, too. He pauses just a moment in the doorway, and it’s like the world stands still for us. Just us. I’m going to fall in love with him and I’ve never said that about any man ever and so soon, to top it off. I cut my gaze, afraid he can read this in me and I’ll freak him out because Lord only knows, I’m freaking myself out.