Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“She’s still healing.”
They nod, understanding where I’m coming from. Under her green dress, her broken rib is still wrapped.
Should have killed him repeats in my head.
“We get it.”
“If you get it, then you know I’m giving her time.”
The last six months have been hell on Rowan. My intentions aren’t casual or fleeting. I want more from her. Coming on too strong will only push her away.
“Take it from experience, don’t delay too long.”
“Says the man who denied his feelings for twelve years.”
I dip my chin to Ace.
“I didn’t deny them, just kept them from her.”
“And today, she’s your wife.”
His dark eyes light up in that damn twinkle Talon always catches. “Today, she’s my wife.”
Talon whirls her around the dance floor, her smile radiating. I want that smile in my life every day. I move to go to her, but my subconscious stops me.
I swallow the rest of my liquor, making a deal with myself.
Give her a little more time.
Because once I make my move, I plan to give Rowan Ellis everything.
1
ROWAN
I review the inventory sheet again, noticing the increase in product sales over the last six weeks. Is it possible? My financial reports are behind, but after running a few numbers, it’s confirmed.
We tripled the business.
My attention is centered on the paperwork, and I don’t react when the bell over the door rings.
“Oh Lord, looks like party-time,” Shelby, one of my stylists, says, followed by a low catcall.
“Of course. It’s ladies’ night.”
My stomach drops at the high-pitched reply, and I glance up to see double trouble staring back at me.
Ginger and Shayla are dressed to impress.
“Oh shit,” I murmur, checking the time.
“Oh shit is right. Did you forget?” Shayla arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“Yes, she forgot. Look at her.” Ginger tsks with disappointment.
“Hey.” I wave lamely.
“Hey? That’s all you have to say?”
“You both are beautiful?”
“While that may be true, your ass is still about to get reamed.”
“I lost track of time.”
“Shelby, can you fix this?” Shayla calls over her shoulder, spinning her finger my way.
“Absolutely. Come on over, boss.”
I roll my eyes, hating when the staff refers to me as “boss.” We’re more of a little family. With all that’s happened in the last few months, I couldn’t have survived without them.
“I’ll grab the wine.” Ginger sashays to the break room on insanely high heels.
“I have make-up.” Shayla follows me to Shelby’s chair, rolling my cosmetic bar with her.
“What’s wrong with my make-up?”
“It’s bland.”
I wince at the term.
“And I’m all for the sloppy-slash-sophisticated top-knot, but let’s pluck those pins and let your curls fall.”
Shelby removes the bobby pins. I momentarily forget about the ambush and enjoy the feel of her fingers running through my hair.
“I forgot how good that feels.”
Shelby smiles at me in the mirror. “It’s been a while since you let anyone pamper you.”
“Agreed. If it wasn’t the ultimate betrayal, I’d schedule an entire day at a spa for you,” Shayla offers.
“You should totally schedule a full-body massage with Kirk next week,” Shelby suggests with a wink.
Ginger rejoins us, balancing a bottle of wine and a handful of glasses. She pours four glasses, handing them out, and turns to me. “I’d kill for a full-body massage with Kirk.”
“That’s because he doesn’t work for you. It would be weird to have him rub all over me practically naked.”
“Sounds fun to me.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“You should make an appointment then.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Close your eyes,” Shayla instructs, coming at me with a make-up brush.
I sink into the chair, sipping my wine and letting her and Shelby take over. Shelby was right; it has been a while since I’ve treated myself. There’s a sea of salons all over this town. Being known as Music City comes with loads of celebrities, musicians, and highly influential people. I’ve spent years building Rendezvous up to have a certain reputation, and with my recent financials, it seems to be paying off.
Ginger and Shayla keep the conversation bouncing back and forth between their jobs and Jewls’ upcoming wedding. At the mention of Jewls and Major, my mind automatically drifts to Ford.
Ford Whitman.
The unbelievably gorgeous man who scaled a building to save me from the worst night of my life.
A decorated Marine hero who saw me at my worst—twice—and stepped in with a gentleness I didn’t know existed.
My chest constricts at the image of him bleeding from the stab wound my dickwad ex got in before they shot him.
His beautiful hazel eyes traveling over me to ensure I was okay.
The firm jaw always covered with days’ worth of stubble. His—
“Stop! Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.” Shayla pops me on the forehead with the end of a makeup brush.
“What are you talking about?” I ask in my most innocent voice.
“Your eyes are crinkling, and lips twitching. It’s messing with my palette.”
“She’s thinking. Her eyes always scrunch when she’s lost in thought.”