Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“That’s why you said I wasn’t so innocent,” he concluded with a faint smile. “Because I’ve been making you feel this way?”
“Maybe.” I cleared my throat and focused on my food. That hadn’t been my best moment.
Two more big bites, and my food was almost gone. I stuffed my mouth with some salad too and washed it down with more wine. He couldn’t complain anymore. I’d eaten. And if I ended up with a stomachache, it was on him.
Now I had a job to do. I had to convince him. I could tell he was on the fence, guarded, still processing. There was also a sense of wariness in his posture and in his eyes. He was as clueless as I was. Or as I had been. Not anymore. I knew what I wanted.
I still had his stereo system stored in my phone, so I went in and connected the device to my Bluetooth, then picked a playlist with slower country rock.
“You’re up to something,” he accused.
“Of course I am.” I grabbed our plates and headed for the kitchen. He’d eaten less than I had, but he wasn’t really hungry either. “I know you. You’re trying to come up with a way to ask me to leave. You’ll give me some spiel on how you need time to process everythin’, and you’ll keep comin’ up with excuses. It wouldn’t surprise me if your argument contains the words ‘boundaries’ and ‘slow things down.’” I grimaced and made my way back to the living room. “I say, no thank you, sir. I’m done with the distance. I’m done with boundaries.” More than that, I was done with him being mad at me. Near the bookcases at the other end of the living room, I picked up a bottle of bourbon and poured us two glasses. “It’s time we do this my way, darlin’.”
“What way is that?”
“Whatever way makes you forget you want me out of your life.”
He sighed and accepted the drink. “I don’t want you out of my life, Blake. If I did, you wouldn’t be here.”
“But you resent me,” I said. “You wanna stay angry with me.”
I took a sip of the bourbon and immediately had to take one more before I sat down too. Lord, it was amazing. Smooth, with a caramel aftertaste to soothe the spicy burn. “You know how to choose your bourbon.”
He didn’t reply.
I sat with my back against the armrest, wanting to face him fully, and pulled up one leg, resting my knee against the cushion.
It didn’t escape my notice that he flicked a glance at my position. More accurately, that I had my legs parted. And it was why he couldn’t think near me, right? The jury was still out where my personality was concerned, but at least I had one edge. He was inexplicably drawn to me physically. It was why our chemistry was off the charts in the bedroom. He was obsessed with me, and I was obsessed with him. And our brains—fuck me twice. They became one. As soon as he voiced a command, my body responded.
“I can take my sweats off if that makes me more likable,” I offered. I wasn’t even joking.
He chuckled tiredly into his drink. “I think the problem is I like you a little too much.”
Finally, progress.
“But you’re right,” he continued. “I’ve been actively trying to stay angry to keep you at arm’s length—possibly my area of expertise—and now I don’t know how to go on. After everything you unloaded, I just…” He took a deep breath and released it, and I got a glimpse of his emotional fatigue. Perhaps because I could relate. “I feel like I’ve run out of steam.”
Seeing him so wrung-out—maybe it was a victory in the end, because now we could get somewhere. Now he was willing to skip all the pretenses and listen. And talk. Properly. At the same time, it tugged at something in me. I wanted the bad to go away. I wanted to take it away from him.
I kinda knew where to start too.
“Do you have any snacks?” I asked and got off the couch.
Sebastian furrowed his brow and gestured his glass toward the kitchen. “Sure. The cupboard above the fridge where Teddy can’t reach.”
Clever. He knew my nephew.
While I was in the kitchen, I pulled a 180 and changed the topic entirely. “So how’s Lily doin’ these days? You think she’ll be an indoor or outdoor cat?”
Growing up on a ranch, I’d always been surrounded by cats, but they were part of the workforce. It hadn’t been encouraged to treat them like pets, much to my sister’s devastation as a child. According to Dad, coddling kittens made them weak and lazy.
“I’m not sure yet,” Sebastian replied. “I’ve let her explore the porch now that the protective netting doesn’t stand in her way. She’ll jump up on the railing, but that’s about it. When Mischa huffs at her, she’ll come inside.”