Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“Oh? Were you calling him to ask more intrusive questions about me?”
Wells cursed. “I knew the old man wouldn’t keep quiet.”
She laid her cheek on his warm shoulder, almost moaning over the way his palm rode up and down her spine. The loneliness inside her had fled as soon as they were touching, and slowly it was replaced with relief, security, a sense of balance, and peace. Even if their default method of communication was bickering. “You wanted to know my birthday, I understand.”
“That’s right. It’s the Wednesday we fly to California. I already have a present.”
“No, you don’t,” she scoffed, lifting her head to make eye contact—
And caught the tail end of pure, undiluted affection before he hid it away.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” he said curtly, brushing Josephine’s hair back from her face. His attention fell to her mouth, before he dragged it away. “Jesus, I can barely feel my arms. I think my adrenaline is crashing.”
“Do you want to”—she sniffed him—“take a shower? Maybe it’ll help with the nerves.”
“Flattering as ever, belle,” he griped. “I was mid-workout, you know.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting.”
He stood up, seemingly unfazed by a full-grown woman clinging to the front of his body. “You don’t sound very sorry,” he remarked. Was his voice deepening? “At all.”
She dropped her legs from around his waist, patting his wrist to let him know he was still holding her in a death grip.
She had no idea what was going to happen between herself and Wells. After all, she still had the same concerns as the last time they were together.
Yet no matter what happened, Wells would always be the first person to crack the code to Josephine’s safe. He was kind of an asshole, but in a way that made her feel . . . like an equal member of a team. People had shied away from challenging Josephine too much her whole life, no matter how often she proved herself capable or fought against the notion that she was weak. At the same time, she knew if she needed to lean on him, he’d hold her up without making a big deal out of it.
Kicking in the door didn’t count—not knowing that she would suddenly go offline had been a legitimate reason for concern. He’d recovered and started giving her shit about it as soon as possible, too, which was weirdly . . . perfect.
“Wells.”
Finally, he released her and turned for the hallway, assuming the correct way to the bathroom. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad I trusted you to follow me on the app.”
For the briefest second, he couldn’t quite disguise his vulnerability. It was fleeting, but potent. “Even after I kicked in your door?”
“Especially after you kicked in my door. You . . .” She searched for the right words, because the moment called for them. “You make me feel capable and healthy. But still like there’s someone who has my back. That’s not an easy balance and you somehow . . . know how to navigate it. Without me having to guide you. It’s hard and you just . . . do it.”
Visibly caught off guard, he opened his mouth, then closed it. “If you’re trying to butter me up for matching pink outfits, you can forget it right now.”
“Not even a soft pastel? Easter is coming up!”
He stomped away from her down the hall and slammed the bathroom door.
Wow. It had been a long time since her face hurt from smiling. She hadn’t had that problem since the last time she’d seen Tallulah.
When the shower water started running, however, her smile started to vanish little by little, followed by a punctuated swallow. Her palms grew clammy, thighs tensing at the sight of shadows moving beneath the door.
Wells was getting naked.
In her bathroom.
To be fair, he’d barged into the apartment half-dressed, but the reality of those mesh workout shorts coming off was extremely hard to ignore.
Still, she wouldn’t be spectating that big reveal. She’d been the one to put the brakes on their relationship. And for good reason. This was her chance to take the knowledge she’d been digesting her entire life and put it to use. To make herself and her family proud by revitalizing and legitimizing their business. Dating Wells in the public eye would lead to her being pigeonholed as the strong woman behind the successful man.
Or worse, his pet pity project.
Uh-uh.
But they could be friends. Really good friends.
After all, she couldn’t just send him home after he’d driven from Miami thinking she was a goner. As soon as he got out of the shower and they figured out something for him to wear, she’d ask him if he wanted to order takeout and watch a movie that didn’t have Gerard Butler humping anyone in it. They could discuss strategy for Torrey Pines next week and gossip about the other golfers. It would be great. Maybe she’d even show him her high school yearbook so they could laugh over her humidity bangs, braces, and puka shell necklace trifecta.