Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I tried to put up a fight, arguing we didn’t need to spend every night together. He countered with, “Fine. Then have lunch with me during the day, and I’ll gladly give you a reprieve on the night.”
My mouth had snapped shut. Arguing was futile. He’d made his point clear. He wanted time with me and he preferred nights—same as I did—but if I wouldn’t give him those, he was going to insist on taking something.
As he’d told me before, he was greedy when it came to me and frankly, that was more of a turn-on than a turn-off.
At this point, I’ve resigned myself to enjoying Dominik’s attention and he’s a nice distraction while I’m in the area to root my brother on in the playoffs.
An extremely nice distraction.
And there’s no danger of this turning into something more. We’ve both agreed it is only what it is, which makes my argument against spending every night with him have no merit.
So yeah… it was nice waking up with him.
Today, Dominik is off doing whatever it is that multibillionaires do. I have plans with him later. He insisted we go out to a nice restaurant, which means I’m going to have to shop for a nice dress.
That’s fine, but for now… it’s time for me to meet Nora.
I’d been in Kosovo for just over a month prior to coming to Phoenix for the playoffs. As a photojournalist, I travel all over the world. That particular assignment was to cover the twentieth anniversary of the Kosovo wars.
Unbeknownst to me, my brother’s teammate Tacker had started counseling with a woman by the name of Nora Wayne. She owns Shërim Ranch, and she uses horses in some of her therapies.
Nora, in a strange twist of small-world fate, had lived in Kosovo. She’s Albanian, and her family was made up of rebels who were tragically wiped out by the Serbs. She was just a child and the only survivor.
Dax and Tacker called me a few weeks ago, putting me on speakerphone. They told me all about Nora and what she’d been through, and Tacker had asked me for a favor. I gladly did it for him and Nora, whom I didn’t even know.
That’s going to change now.
I exit my vehicle, then make my way up the porch steps of the main ranch house. Nora invited me to breakfast because I have stuff to share with her.
There’s no time to even raise my hand to knock on the front door before it’s thrown open by Tacker Hall. Granted, I’ve seen him since I’ve been back, but it’s mainly been out on the ice where he’s totally tearing it up.
But there’s no doubting the grinning man is different from the one I’d known before I left.
Dax had explained about Tacker’s transformation. How the normally taciturn man was now easy to laugh, lighter on the ice, and had bonded the team back together with his return.
Yet, I’m still surprised when he steps across the threshold and wraps me in a big bear hug. He squeezes me hard. “So good to see you.”
When he releases me, I laugh. “You really have changed. Dax told me you weren’t an asshole anymore, but I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.”
Tacker tips his head back and gives a booming laugh, his eyes shining bright as he shakes his head with amusement. “I like how you always call it as you see it.”
I study him a moment, and it’s plain as day.
He’s healed.
His heart has been mended.
His soul reborn.
“Come on in,” he says, backing up and motioning me in. I step inside, noting several boxes in the living room.
“You move in?” I ask when he shuts the door.
“Yeah… just before the playoffs started. My apartment was such a dump, and it’s not in the greatest area. Since Nora works here, it’s just more convenient if we stay here.”
“This place is beautiful,” I remark as Tacker leads me through the house.
“I love it out here,” he replies over his shoulder. “Nora’s even got me riding horses, and I used to hate the damn things.”
When we enter the kitchen, my eyes land on Nora, who is bent at the waist and pulling a pan of what looks and smells like cinnamon rolls from the oven. She places them on the stovetop, then twists toward us with a smile. My breath catches at the sight.
She’s stunning.
I mean… supermodel gorgeous.
Her smile causes her beauty to be magnified to almost painful proportions, but it’s the light in her eyes that adds to the magic of her. It’s obvious she’s a good human being.
Tacker introduces us. “Babe… this is Willow Monahan.”
Nora takes off the oven mitt before approaching me. When I stick my hand out, she bypasses it, wrapping me up in a warm, all-encompassing hug that sticks for several moments. Without a word passed between us, I can feel her gratitude seeping from her body into mine.