Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“There she is!” Reagan spots me.
I smile, making my way to them. Mom’s and Becca’s jaws drop.
“Do you like it?” I wrinkle my nose and rub my hand over the back of my head and my short pixie cut.
“I like it,” Reagan finally says when my mom and Becca don’t answer.
“D-do you like it?” My mom breaks her silence.
“Yeah. It will be way better for work. I can sleep in later because it will take me two seconds to do my hair. Less drying time after I shower. And on my wedding day, I won’t have to fuss over flyaways.”
“Flyaways,” my mom whispers, losing some color from her cheeks.
“It’s refreshing.” Becca smiles. “Shall we try on dresses?”
“Let’s do it.” I take Reagan’s hand. With a new bounce in my step, feeling so much lighter, I lead them to the bridal boutique.
For the nearly two hours we’re here, trying on dresses, my mom keeps looking at me. She looks brokenhearted.
When I try on dress number fifteen, I smile at her in the mirror. “It’s just hair, Mom.”
With a forced smile, she nods.
“This is the one,” I declare, turning in a slow circle. It’s a simple, long-sleeved off-the-shoulder, white dress. An elegant sheath dress. Perfect for a January wedding in the Midwest.
“It’s stunning,” Mom says, seeming to snap out of her shock. Finally.
“Colten is going to bawl his eyes out,” Becca says.
Everyone laughs.
I don’t see Colten crying on our wedding day.
Four dress orders later, we head to Colten’s house, grabbing pizza on the way.
“Looks like he’s home,” Becca says when she sees his car.
Reagan sprints into the house. “Daddy! We got dresses!” Seconds later, she trots down the stairs just as we’re shutting the door behind us, carrying the pizza and drinks to the kitchen. “He said he needs a shower.”
“Well, we’ll start eating. He won’t care,” Becca says, opening the pizza boxes on the table.
My mom sits in a chair and sighs. “Oh my achy feet.”
“Right?” Becca plops down and passes a plate to my mom.
“I’ll be right back,” I mumble, but I don’t think they hear me over their aching moans and rumbling stomachs.
As I ascend the stairs, I run a hand through my short hair. From the moment I told the guy at the salon to chop it off, right up until this very moment, I felt confident and empowered. I clearly have hair issues. I thought this would help. Now, I don’t know.
I can’t stop thinking about Colten’s reaction. He loves (loved) my hair. Running his hands through it. Burying his nose into it before taking a long inhale. Stroking it after sex.
I open the door to his bedroom then the door to his bathroom. His naked backside is to me as he washes his hair in the shower, the glass covered in condensation. When the door clicks shut behind me, he glances over his shoulder, wiping suds from his face.
I fold my hands behind me and lean against the door. I’ve never felt so naked.
He pushes open the glass door, eyeing me with an unreadable expression. Maybe it’s the steam or maybe it’s the memories of what I survived today and how out of control I felt this afternoon, but I can’t look him in the eye.
“Rough day, baby?”
I nod slowly, keeping my gaze on the deep blue bathmat.
Wet feet step out onto it. Another step. And another step. His hands cup my face, forcing me to look at him as he drips water all around us, on my blouse and jeans. “You look pretty.” He grins. “Like … really pretty.”
All the emotions from the day pool in my eyes a breath before his mouth covers mine. He reaches behind me and locks the door before his hands make quick work of unbuttoning my blouse, removing my bra, and ridding me of everything from the waist down. Then he kisses me again, guiding me into the shower, closing the door behind us.
His hands caress my scalp like they did before I cut my hair, like he’s running his fingers through invisible locks. I draw a low groan from his chest when my hand wraps around his cock.
I used to love that Colten Mosley saw everything about me. He had X-ray vision to my emotions. Now, it’s painfully embarrassing. After seventeen years, I reappear in his life only to completely fall apart. Who signs up for this?
His lips brush along my neck while his hand cups my breast. “Stop thinking so hard, Watts.” I feel his grin along my skin. “I love you. You love me. Don’t complicate it.” He kisses my shoulder. “Let us be the one part of your life that’s easy.”
My eyes drift shut, and my head lulls back slowly with every inch he journeys down my body.
“Colten …” I whisper, one hand flat on the tile to my side, my other hand in his hair while his tongue flicks between my legs.