Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Can we skip this part? This is all bullshit. I don’t want Shannon. I don’t even like her all that much. She’s nice enough, but I spent the entire dinner wanting to put that bartender in a chokehold.”
“We weren’t flirting.”
“I know. I just… Tonight sucked. Let’s just move on, okay? I won’t go to dinner with Shannon again.”
“Was it good? Sex with her?”
“I told you, I don’t even remember it.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being with anyone before me. I’m sorry for saying what I said back at the restaurant. I know it was hurtful. I just…”
“I don’t like the idea of you being with anyone before me either.”
She turns and levels her eyes with my chest. Her voice is distant when she replies, “In a way, it feels like there was no one before you.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You have this gravity…”
I step toward her then and kiss her. She pushes me away hard and I step back. Her brows are furrowed in a line as she studies me. We’re running hot. We should take some time to cool off. I should turn and walk away. Hell, maybe I should sleep up in my own bed tonight and give her space, but then she steps toward me again, grabs my shirt in her fists, and yanks me toward her so she can kiss me hard. It’s not a forgiving kiss. It’s a continuation of our fight. We’re done with using our mouths to sling painful words and now we want to use our bodies. It’s warfare in that kitchen as we wrestle with each other’s clothes. God, she’s mad. She’s mad that she had to sit through dinner with Shannon, and I’m mad at myself for putting her in that situation to begin with. I think of what it would feel like if the situation were reversed. I think of having to endure a meal with a guy I know she’s slept with and it’s too much. We’re on the ground between the sink and oven, lying on unforgiving wood covered by a thin rug. Natalie pushes me to lie back and climbs on top of me, straddling my hips. We’re still half-clothed, deranged and in love. Her nails scrape down my chest and I grip her ass, grinding against her.
Fuck, I want her.
We’re not even issuing apologies. Our mouths stay busy doing other things. She covers me with her body and her lips hit my neck and I strain to stay in control, strain to keep the frayed edges of my heart from splitting further. How deeply can you love? How far down does the abyss go?
“I didn’t mean what I said last night.” That’s the first thing Natalie says to me in the morning before she kisses my cheek. “I hope you can forgive me.”
“It’s forgotten,” I say before turning my head and catching her mouth. “Now get up and get dressed. I have something to show you before work.”
I got a call from my contractor yesterday, letting me know they were wrapping things up at my townhouse. A cleaning crew is scheduled to come in tomorrow and I have a blue tape walk-through in two days, but I can’t resist taking Natalie over there before we head to the hospital. It’s chilly out on the sidewalk. Natalie’s bundled in a coat and I have on a fleece jacket over my scrubs. Inside the townhouse, it’s not much better. I’ve kept the heat off during construction, and there’s no point in turning it on now. We’ll only stay for a minute.
“Wow, Connor…” Natalie’s words drift off as she steps into the foyer. Construction dust litters the floor as I lead us through the front hall and toward the stairs. “Wait, I want to see the kitchen!”
“It’s nice, I promise. Quartz countertops, new appliances, but that’s not why we’re here.”
She pouts as I tug her up the stairs. “But the kitchen is always the best part!”
I think she’s about to eat her words, but I’m not sure. There’s a chance I might have overstepped some imaginary line by taking the initiative on the rooms upstairs. I should have asked her about the design plans first, but I wanted it to be a surprise.
“The master is down at the end of the hall,” I say, tilting my head in that direction. “But this room is what I wanted to show you.”
It’s the bedroom just off the master, to our left. I open the door and step back so Natalie can go in before me. She frowns in confusion as she peers inside, and then she stops at the threshold and covers her mouth with her hand.
“When did you—”
The room is our baby’s nursery, or at least what will be the nursery once we finish it. I had my contractor and designer work together to paint the walls and install a new soft carpet and a hanging light fixture. I didn’t pick any of it seeing as I have no clue what looks good together, but I think the designer did a good job. The walls are painted a pale gray, a neutral color that changes depending on the light. Right now, in the early morning, it’s warm and welcoming with blue undertones. There’s no furniture except for a lone crib sitting against the wall across from us, which I put together one day after work last week. It took forever and the box was missing one of the screws so I had to run down to the hardware store and find a replacement, but in the end, I think it looks good. Sturdy. My sweat is pretty much ingrained in the wood now.