Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He nodded once and looked back over at where Isa was, only for her to be gone.
“She moves like a goddamn cat,” he muttered, instantly prowling farther into the house.
I watched him go, trying not to admire his muscles as he went, but that was futile.
It would be like looking at a work of art and not noticing the beauty of it.
He peeked into the kitchen, shook his head, and then moved into the hallway.
I followed at a much slower pace.
When I finally caught up to him, it was to find him standing in my doorway with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring at what I assumed was Isa.
“What…” My voice trailed off as I got a good look. “That’s Karate Kid.”
“You listed off other animals that you had,” he rumbled from my side. “I didn’t remember hearing a cat mentioned.”
I studied his little girl, who was curled up on the bed with Karate Kid on one side of her, and Mr. Miyagi on the other. Her eyes were closed, and she was snoring lightly.
I wondered if Bayou snored.
Was it bad that I wanted to find out?
“I didn’t before yesterday,” I admitted. “I went to the pet store and adopted two of them because I was there for treats for my sister and saw them sitting there, looking all pitiful. Mr. Miyagi is missing an ear and Karate Kid is missing an eye. The sales chick said that they’d been there for almost a year with no attention.”
Bayou’s eyes were shining when he looked down at me. “That’s how I got my cat.”
I smiled then, and his eyes zeroed in on my mouth.
I stilled, wondering if I should move, go get into the shower, but my feet were planted firmly on the beige carpet and had what felt like minds of their own.
Bayou moved all at once. One second his arms were crossed, and he was standing positioned facing my bedroom, and the next I was in his arms, and his mouth was on mine.
I swallowed a cry of surprise—or Bayou did with his mouth—and nearly fell into euphoria.
Bayou was kissing me.
Bayou was kissing me really, really well.
I moaned into his mouth, my fingers digging into his biceps.
“My head’s spinning and all I can think about is how I am going to fuck this up.” He pulled back, his eyes so intense on mine that I almost felt fileted down straight to my soul. “And then you’re there, bringing me back under control and making me see reason.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
It didn’t work.
Mostly because before I could get my wits about me again, Bayou was back.
“Spent the last half a year trying to tell myself that you’re better off without someone like me. Someone that has too much on his plate—someone that has more added onto it every day—that can barely deal with the problems he has. But then you wear something like this, all day long, and bend over in front of me, I think, just to see if you can get a reaction…and I just…can’t.”
I swallowed hard. I had done that.
I’d done that because I wanted to see if I’d get a rise out of him. I wanted him to repeat the kiss we’d shared. I’d wanted him with a ferociousness that was bordering on unhealthy.
A person shouldn’t want someone like I wanted Bayou. It was just crazy, to want and need someone as much as I did him.
Surely what I felt for him was just a passing crush.
But it wasn’t.
It hadn’t been when I was fifteen, and sure as hell wasn’t now.
“Now’s not the time,” I tried to say. “You have too much on your plate. You need to focus on…”
“I’m focusing on her,” he said, eyes going to the bedroom where I could see Isa laying, sound asleep. “But Isa wasn’t the only thing that I found out about yesterday. I also found out that I needed you.”
I opened my mouth to reply.
“I was well on my way to having a panic attack,” he said.
I frowned. “What?”
“When you walked out yesterday? I was telling myself that I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t be a father. I had too many things on my plate. My mind was whirling a thousand miles a minute. I was working myself up into a really good attack of the ‘you can’t handle it’ blues. Then you walked out and my soul just went…quiet.”
I swallowed hard.
His hand went up from my hip, skimming lightly along my side until it met my breast.
“I’m not normal,” he said. “Never have been, and never will be. I’m proud of the man that I’ve been able to carve out of the boy that I used to be. I’ve gotten my shit together. I’ve gotten a job. I’ve overcome so much…and all of that went sliding right out of me the moment I was told that I was a father.”