Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
I knew better than that.
Ryder would never really want me. Not the way I wanted him.
He’d told me, and I was a fool to believe anything else.
A fool to respond and beg him to make good on the last text.
So I forced myself to lie back in bed and ignore his messages.
Both terrified and thrilled by the exchange.
But I needed to remember that just looking at Ryder broke my heart.
And I could only imagine what would happen if he touched me—even if it was only once.
TWENTY
DAKOTA
“Mom, it’s only a dinner date. You’re acting like the man asked me to marry him.” My voice was hushed as I spoke to her on the phone and hurried around the kitchen getting Kayden’s things ready, trying not to second-guess the choice I’d made to agree to this.
It was for the best.
Getting the heck out of this house before I completely lost my mind seemed like a really good idea right then.
“Well, he might not have asked you yet, but he seems like the kind of guy who is looking to settle down.” My mom was as caring as they came, and there wasn’t a mean or vapid bone in her body, but she also seemed to know all the gossip that made it through town. When Brad had moved into Time River, he’d been quite the topic of interest.
Suffice it to say my mother was most definitely interested now.
I sighed. “It’s one date. That’s all, so don’t you start planning any weddings.”
My nerves were rattled as it was.
My insides shredded from whatever had happened with Ryder two nights ago. All my edges frayed.
I didn’t need her feeding anything else into the chaos.
Yesterday morning, neither Ryder nor I had mentioned the night before. We’d gone about our routine like everything was normal while a sticky tension had strained between us.
Not that I’d seen him all that much.
Once he’d gone into work, he hadn’t returned. He had been gone long into the late-night hours doing God knew what. Things I didn’t want to know about, that was for sure. Things that had kept me up tossing in bed, still awake when he’d come creeping up the stairs at close to three in the morning.
And that—that was the exact reason I couldn’t allow myself to contemplate it.
If it weren’t for the text messages that had still been sitting on my phone, I would have chalked the whole thing up to a dream.
But there they were.
Glaring and real.
The problem was, I had no idea what they meant, and deciphering them was a fool’s game.
Ryder Nash could demolish me, and the last thing I needed was to get my heart shattered.
Mom huffed like I was ridiculous. “I’m not planning any weddings, Dakota. I’m excited that my daughter is going out. Is that such a bad thing?”
Affection swelled in my chest, and a soft smile pulled to my mouth. “No. It’s not such a bad thing. I just don’t want you getting ahead of yourself.”
“I think the real question is if you want to go there?” She drew it out like life’s most important question.
“I don’t even really know him,” I said as I poured milk into a sippy cup.
“Which is the whole point of a date,” she reminded me, her easy encouragement knitted into the words. “It could be the beginning of something great.”
“It’s honestly not that big of a deal, Mom. He came into the café for lunch, and he asked me to dinner.”
I left out the whole part where Paisley had instigated the whole thing.
“All I’m saying is you should keep your heart open to possibility.”
I didn’t have time to respond before the air got sucked from my lungs.
The presence covering me from behind was overwhelming.
Intense and harsh and so much stronger than it normally was.
The ground didn’t just shift a fraction this time, but it tipped far enough it made it difficult to keep my balance.
To remain steady.
Compelled, I looked over my shoulder.
Ryder hovered at the entryway.
Midnight in the light of day.
All rigid lines and untamed hair and wicked eyes that stroked over me like a rough caress. One done with callused, needy hands.
A shiver rocked through, and I swallowed it down, trying my best to ignore this strange, new energy that had taken his house hostage.
Dense and deep.
So thick it was hard to move through it.
It’d grown even worse since I’d come downstairs after I’d showered and gotten ready. I’d decided on a high-waisted pink dress with a tulle skirt that lent itself to one of those childhood princess fantasies. I’d paired it with matching pink pumps and did my hair in a high ponytail, and each time I shifted my head, the curls bounced around my shoulders.
I’d finished the look with glimmery eyeshadow and glossy, pink lips.
I’d stood in the mirror for about three minutes looking at myself because I felt so pretty.