Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“Kismet, sweetheart,” I say softly.
“Yes,” she says, the air thickening between us. “Kismet.”
I stroke her cheek. “Let’s go inside.” I reach for the door.
She grabs my arm and her attention is riveted on the house. “Are you really sure this is a good idea? Is it safe?”
“You have me, sweetheart,” I say, giving her a wink. “You’re safe.”
“From everyone but you?”
“If you had protection from me, how would I ravish you night and day?”
She laughs and strokes her fingers over my jaw. “And I do want to be ravished by you.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” I kiss her and straighten. “I’ll grab my bag and then come around and get you. Wait on me.”
I exit the car, waste no time grabbing my bag, and right as I reach the passenger door, Harper pops it open. I offer her my hand and help her to her feet, walking her up close and personal. Her arms wrap my waist, and I know the moment her hand manages to hit the gun she’s miraculously missed until now. Her eyes rocket to mine. “Walker armed me,” I explain before she can even ask.
“If you expect me to complain, I won’t. I approve and so would my father. He made me learn to shoot, and I carry.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes. I do. I should never have left without my purse or my Baby Glock.”
It’s not the weapon I’d choose for her, but we’ll deal with that another time. She’s carrying, and that could be a good thing or a bad thing. Weapons can be used against you if you don’t handle them correctly. “How often do you practice using it?”
“Not as often as I should.” She shivers. “My coat is in the car. We need to go inside.”
I catch her hand in mine and start walking toward the house, and then dig her keys from my pocket to quickly turn the locks and shove open the door. “Your castle awaits.”
She shivers again, but holds her position, nervous to enter her own safe place. I pull her in front of me, my body cradling hers. “You have me, remember? You’re safe, and as a bonus, Walker has a man watching the house.” I nuzzle her ear. “I got you, Harper, and one day you’ll know that.”
She darts away with those words, grabs her phone from the island, and then turns to face me. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
I shut the door and lock it before giving her my full attention. “I never make a promise I can’t keep.”
“Actually, I said don’t make promises, but I don’t think you’ve really made any. And forget any of that just came out of my mouth. I’m rattled and I’m not proud of it, either. My room is upstairs.” She turns away and starts walking down the hallway.
I don’t stop her. I follow. Her room and her bed seem like the perfect place to finish this conversation.
Chapter thirty-five
Eric
My first look at Harper’s bedroom comes as I pause in the doorway and scan the room as gray and curiously masculine as her living room, but for the slice of femininity represented by the red pillows and red lampshades offer. I have a strong opinion on why, too. I spent years of my life being molded to a specific way the Kingstons live, dress—hell even eat and even breathe. She’s living in a Kingston, male-dominated world, barely holding onto herself. If I hadn’t shed their hold on me when I did and entered the Navy, I don’t know what I’d have become. She needs the same kind of cleansing, but it won’t take a trip around the world with the Navy. She has me.
She steps to the side of the bed and sets her phone on the nightstand as if she just needs something to do with herself. I toss my bag on a chair, remove my gun and stick it inside the bag, and then shrug out of my coat, dropping it on top of the rest of my things. When I turn to face Harper, she’s still standing by the bed, staring at me, and her energy vibes like downstairs. She’s still in whatever mindset drove her to blurt out that comment about promises never being made. Which is obviously about this tug of war of hate and lust, and everything else we aren’t ready to talk about.
I amble her direction, and stop just in front of her, but I don’t touch her, not yet. I give her room to set the tone, to show me what she wants. “I am glad you’re here,” she says. “That’s all. I just want you to know that whatever else happens, I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to use the bathroom to change now.” She cuts her gaze and tries to move away.