Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
He’s asking a lot and I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it. There’s a lot already on my plate, and what he wants me to do is effectively ignore the reality I’m seeing with my own two eyes and trust whatever he tells me instead.
That seems crazy.
“Aubrey.” He flexes his hand on my jaw, forcing me to look back up at him. “Listen to me. Anae will try to get under your skin. She’ll do whatever she has to do to accomplish that end. She’ll make posts that hurt. She’ll lie to you. She wants to scare you off without doing something to alienate me, and as long as that’s where we have her, we’re fine. If she begins to sense she’s losing control, that’s what will drive her to go off-script. Let her see a reaction if that’s what she wants, but don’t let it truly get to you. I’m asking you to effectively stop thinking for yourself when it comes to this, stop trying to make sense of it. You won’t be able to. You’re not like her. You don’t think the way we do. Trust that I am looking out for your best interests, and let me handle this.”
I smile faintly at the absurdity of it all. “’Ignore the reality in front of your eyeballs, don’t question it or me, and let me do all the thinking for you.’ Anything else, master?”
He smirks, backing me up against the wall. He keeps space between our bodies so our clothes don’t touch, but he leans in to kiss me. Playfully, he says, “Exactly. Now, is that so hard?”
“Do you want a girlfriend or a robot?” I mutter against his intoxicating mouth.
“I want you,” he states, making my tummy flutter. “If there’s no imminent threat, you’re free to notice all the reality you want, but in a scenario like this, I need you to stay out of the way. I need you to trust me and let me handle it. Let me protect you.”
I sigh. “For a girl whose father dipped out amid the worst time of her life, you’re asking for a lot.”
“I know,” he says gently, caressing my cheek and leaving a soft, tender kiss at the corner of my mouth. “I’m not him. I’ll never abandon you the way he did.”
He may be the least trustworthy human I’ve ever encountered, but that promise is like a salve over a wound I didn’t even know I had. Gazing up at him, vulnerability in my eyes, I ask, “Promise?”
He nods and leans in to give me another kiss. “I promise.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Aubrey
My mood improves markedly after our encounter in the bathroom.
Firstly, because Dare said all the right things.
Secondly, because he followed it up by covering my mouth, sliding his hand down the front of my jeans, and fingering me until I could scarcely remember my own name.
The post-orgasm buzz gets me through his shower, and when he comes out in fresh, clean clothes, he comes into the kitchen where I’m getting our dinner ingredients together and wraps his arms around my waist from behind. He’s so much taller he towers over me, but I’ve never felt safer than I do in his tight embrace.
I didn’t intend on all the PDA in front of my mom since I didn’t even know what to call him, but Dare isn’t shy. He bends to kiss my cheek and the side of my face as I move the sourdough bread across the counter. He kisses the corner of my mouth and I giggle—actually giggle.
I’m smitten again, and maybe the forecast is foggy, but I like not being able to see the danger. If he’s intent on killing it before it gets to me, do I really need to?
It’s nice to be light and happy again.
It’s nice to feel confident that he has my back.
“So, Chef Aubrey, what are we making for dinner tonight?”
“I’m going to teach you how to make a sandwich,” I tease.
“Seriously? I know how to make a sandwich.”
I smile and look up at him. “I thought we’d start with the basics. We’re going to make homemade sweet potato fries and turkey melts for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds delicious.”
I nod, grabbing a sweet potato. “We’re going to keep the skins on, so the first step is to scrub this clean.” I hold it out. “Here you go. Get to scrubbing.”
He pulls a face, not removing his arms from around my waist. “Really? I usually pay people to scrub things for me.”
“Nope. We’re doing everything ourselves. I believe in you,” I say lightly as I hand him the sweet potato.
Reluctantly, he lets go and grabs it, but he looks lost standing at the sink. “What do I scrub it with?”
I laugh and walk over to show him.
While he’s doing that, I get the cookie sheet ready and pop it into the oven so it’s nice and hot when we put the fries in.