Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Mostly Lachlan.”
“You both did it.” Her smile was soft. “I’m proud of you.”
“Proud of you,” I murmured truthfully.
Her cheeks flushed and I was already anticipating a night alone in the house with her. “Callie stopped by with Harley and Xander today. I don’t think she and Lewis quite realized how hard having two babies was going to be.” Worry creased her forehead. “Maybe we could offer to take them for a few days?”
The woman didn’t know how to stop. She’d always wanted to protect Callie (and Harry) from absolutely everything. Even new parent exhaustion. “Xander’s too young. They wouldn’t want to be away from him just now.”
“You didn’t see her. She’s worn thin.”
“And she’ll get through it,” I promised her. “When Xander’s a bit older, we’ll take them away for a long weekend. All of us. It’ll give Callie and Lewis some free time without taking the kids away from them entirely.”
Sloane considered the idea. “That could be good.”
“They’re fine. They’re better than fine. This is what they wanted. And they’re young enough to have the energy to handle it.” When we had Harry, the exhaustion was a shock to my fucking system.
“True.”
I cleared my throat, eyes devouring Sloane’s every move as she finished cleaning up and began untying her apron. Her hair was scraped tightly back from her face for hygienic reasons, and I itched to tug the hair tie out in favor of my fist. Heat pooled in my gut. “I take it now is a bad time to suggest a holiday just for two? Lachlan offered to take Harry for a week next month. He and Brechin would love it.” Brechin, Lachlan and Robyn’s son, was in the same year at school and the two lads had become best pals lately. Brechin was also at this lad’s sleepover in Golspie because wherever Harry went, Brechin followed.
Sloane turned to me, her pretty blue eyes lit with surprise. Seventeen years. I’d wondered if at some point, I’d lose my need for her. Strangely, my possessiveness for her only increased. “A holiday? Where?”
“Portugal. I might already have booked it.” A private villa overlooking the water.
“Seriously?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
“Seriously.”
“I’d have to close the bakery. Ask Callie if she minded—”
“Callie already knows. She’s happy to close the bakery for a week.”
My wife crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I want my wife to myself.”
At the growl in my voice, Sloane’s whole body softened in a way I recognized. Fuck, I was a lucky bastard. “I could be alone with you for a week. What do you intend to do with me?”
“I think you know.”
“I’d still like to hear about it.”
My lips twitched. “Let’s just say I made sure the villa has a bed frame I can tie you to.”
Her cheeks flushed, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I can definitely close the bakery for that.”
“How about I give you a preview this evening?” It had been ages since we could play. Sex had become making love quietly most nights. I still held her down like she liked, sometimes missionary, sometimes on her knees. But always quiet and less energetic than either of us preferred. It was only on nights Harry was out of the house that I could fuck my wife hard and rough just as she liked it.
“Oh, I definitely expect a preview when we get home.” She reached up to untie her hair. “But maybe you could give me an appetizer right now.”
My already heated blood turned hotter as I raised an eyebrow. “Here?”
As her hair fell around her shoulders, Sloane reached for the zipper on her jeans. “I told you I missed you.”
I’d crossed the room and hauled her up onto the counter before she’d barely finished speaking. Her laugh scored through me as my hands coasted possessively over her body. “Fuck, I missed you too.”
Sloane’s lips brushed mine. “Then stop missing me.”
My answer was to kiss her as if she was the fucking oxygen I needed to breathe.
Because that’s exactly what Sloane Ironside was.
NORTH
It had been weeks since I’d seen my wife and son. Weeks.
I’d decided to surprise them by returning home a few days early and was excited to see their faces. I loved my job and I tried my best to take work that would keep me close. However, this film opportunity was one I couldn’t pass up, even if it meant filming between LA and Europe for the last four months. The role was that of a government assassin pulled out of retirement and was the most physically demanding part I’d ever played. Before it, I’d been in training for six months to get my body where it needed to be to do some of the stunts. I’d promised Aria not all of them, considering I was closer to fifty than forty now. However, I’d never been in better shape in my life.