Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“What are you talking about?”
Running my hands along the pretty clothes, I reply, “Allison—”
“Who’s Allison?”
He exhales slowly, but I answer anyway. “My best friend since preschool. She said the place my family owns in France is my favorite place in the world, and since nothing here brings back memories, I figure my best shot is to go there.”
I hear him sigh like it’s already been a long day. I wish I were there to ease the muscles in his shoulders and take his mind off the things that trouble him. Wait a minute. Am I what troubles him?
“Allison is a woman you just met, technically, but you trust her?”
“I do trust her. I’m going with my gut here, Loch. And my parents are there.”
“That does change things.” A harsh breath travels the line to my ear. “How are you getting there?”
“We haven’t booked flights yet. We just know we’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
“Let me take care of it for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do, and I will. I feel . . .” The emotion heard in his deep tone, and then the sudden pause, causes my chest to tighten.
I whisper, “It’s okay.”
“It’s my job to protect you. I need to.” His voice is so quiet as if the words themselves cause anguish.
“No, your job is to love me, and you excel in that. I’m safe, babe. I don’t need you to worry.” I imagine he’s shaking his head, though he doesn’t say anything. “I appreciate your help.”
The silence extends, but then he says, “I’m glad you have your friend.”
“And tomorrow, I’ll have my parents.” I wish I was better at containing my emotions, but tomorrow is what today was supposed to be—the day I get my life and family back.
He says, “I’ll text you the details at five o’clock in the morning, so you can get some sleep.”
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Tuesday.” How is it possible to miss him after such a short time apart? I do, I miss him, and I adore hearing him call me by that name. My name.
“I love you, Loch.”
As excited as I am to go to France and see my parents and the estate, I wish I were climbing in bed with him, making love until the early morning hours, and then sleeping in with him. He’s my haven.
When we hang up, I start packing. I don’t plan to stay in France long, but I’m also not sure how long it will take to discover my history. Fingers crossed, it’s only for a few days, and then I can be back in Loch’s arms and his bed. Our bed. Again.
I finish packing and then get ready for bed. My phone rings with a video call. I eagerly answer, “Hey.”
With a toothbrush in hand and the phone in the other, Allison enters her bathroom wearing a fuzzy pink robe. “How’s it going over there?”
“I’m ready for tomorrow, so now I’m getting ready for bed. You?”
“Just finished.” I’m treated to glimpses of her bedroom and the boho vibe she’s got going on. Sheer fabric is draped over the headboard, and colorful curtains cover the window. She has photos scattered around, but they’re too small to get a good look at who’s in them through the screen. A colorful lei is looped around the top of a lampshade on the nightstand, and clothes are scattered at the end of the bed with a few piled on the floor in the corner.
“What are you going to tell Carter regarding France?” she asks over the purr of her toothbrush and running water.
“What should I tell him?”
With a mouth full of foamy paste, she ducks out, and says, “Fuck him.”
“Fuck you very much, too, Allison,” he says, coming into my room.
“What are you doing?” Thank God I’m still dressed, but I know I need to lock my door from now on or, better yet, kick him out of the house entirely. He can work remote from his place.
He comes to me with a drunk grin on his face, and judging by his demeanor, alcohol courses through his veins. He’s loose, totally relaxed in his own skin. So unlike how he was earlier when I met him. “How are you, darling?” He grabs me, but I slip out of his hold on my arm and move away from him.
“I’m—”
“Going to France. I heard. I’ll go with you.” No. No. No. No. No.
Allison says, “It’s a girls’ trip, so go to bed, Carter.”
Completely ignoring her, he says, “You ladies can lounge and do what you do best—look pretty for the camera—while I tend to my meetings. It will be good to be back in the office and for the others to see me in person. When do we leave?”
“It’s not your decision. It’s mine,” I add, opening the door and inviting him to get the hell out.