Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
You have no idea how right you are.
Chapter 8
Shepherd
FOUR MONTHS LATER
As I sit here on my porch, letting the cool summer breeze lull me into my quiet thoughts, I’m bothered by her.
She just got home, and honestly I can’t even look at her, because every time I do I remember the one night we shared together.
Felicity Lark.
The night that was obviously not very important to her, because while I was away she got back together with that creep of an ex of hers.
Good riddance. Who needs that anyway?
Felicity, you can have that tool.
I watch as she exits her little blue Honda, and carries a bag of groceries into her house. The asshole fiancé follows behind her, letting her carry the groceries, and not offering to do it. Prick.
She’s prettier than I remember. Soft curves that look better than I remember. Her hair’s a touch longer. Her brown hair nearly touching the top of her ass.
I think back on that night we shared a lot. Even though I’d never let anybody know that, especially my brothers.
Her screen door slams as she struts back out. She glances over at me, and there’s this fire burning in her stare. She marches across the grass, angry strides bringing her closer and closer until she stomps up each step. “You said you’d have your garbage can picked up.”
“Excuse me?” I gaze up at her, leaning back in my chair.
“Your garbage can. It’s in the street.”
I nod. “It is.”
“Well, are you going to get it, or are you going to leave it out there all week?”
I cross my arms over my chest, wishing I wasn’t as angry as I am. I don’t even know what’s making me so angry. The fact she’s back with her ex, or that she’s standing on my porch yelling at me.
How easy would it be to lift her up, carry her into my house and recreate that night we shared over Christmas? Or would it be easier to shut her up by slamming my lips to hers? Would her boyfriend, or fiancé, or whatever the fuck he is even care? Does he even know how to get her off like I do?
I’m guessing he doesn’t because she appears very angry as she stares down at me. She doesn’t look like the type of woman who’s satisfied in the bedroom.
She was that night. I know that for a fact.
“Are you even listening to me?” she says.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, staring her directly in the eyes.
“What?” She pinches her nose up at me in disgust.
“What are you doing?” I’m obviously angry about the boyfriend, so I drive home how hard she’s hurt me. “Are you really upset about the trash can, or are you looking for something your loverboy over there—” I nod in the direction of her house. “—can’t deliver? Because I’m more than happy to have a repeat of what we did.”
Oh, she’s furious. She blinks at me for a solid fifteen seconds before her mouth falls open.
“I would never let you touch me ever again. That night was the biggest mistake of my life.”
That hurts, but I brush it off like it doesn’t. “Sure.”
“You have some nerve.” She stomps her little foot, and I try to hide my smile. “I came over to ask you to pick up your trash can because it makes our neighborhood look ugly.” Now she crosses her arms over her chest.
I rise from my seat, and inch closer to her. I tower over her, giving her a smirk. “Sweetheart, I obviously leave my trash can out there to piss you off.”
“I can’t believe I ever let you touch me.” Her look of defiance turns me on, but I’m angry she went back to that man.
How could she? I thought her and I had something real, and whenever I came home from Florida after helping my cousins we were going to pick things back up where we left off.
I just didn’t expect to be down there as long as I was.
I should have gotten her number, but I was busy every single day I was there. Maybe I’m an arrogant ass to think she would have waited for me.
But I waited for her.
I fucking waited. “You loved the way I touched you, sweetheart. You were begging me for more.”
And like I fucking deserve, she slaps me square across my jaw. I watch as she heads back to her house, slamming her screen door as she goes back inside.
To him.
I walk off my porch, getting my trash can to bring it to the side of my house and then I head back inside to suffer through another sleepless night.
“Catch the game the other day?” my older brother, Callum asks me.
I shake my head. “I haven’t caught anything lately.” And it’s the truth.
Since I’ve been back from Florida I can’t concentrate. I can’t think about anything but Felicity and the way she hopped back in the saddle with the fiancé she swore she couldn’t stand. My days since I’ve been back have been a struggle.