Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 83167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You look beautiful, Lottie,” he said. “You always look beautiful. It’s impossible for you not to look beautiful.”
I knew my strengths.
I knew my weaknesses.
I was pretty.
I was not beautiful.
Except to Mo.
That was sweet, incredibly sweet, and he could say that, but after my days of rest, it wasn’t like we hadn’t had sex in the five weeks since surgery. We did. A lot. Gentle at first. Then not so much.
From what I could see, I was fully healed.
I felt great.
And I was due to go back to work the Tuesday after next.
I was ready.
I was also not.
And the not part was mostly the fact that Mo and I made love, but he never touched my tits.
He barely even looked at them.
“Mo, when we have sex, you don’t—” I began.
That was as far as I got because he cut off my words by tossing the bralette to the side, putting two big hands on my waist, lifting me up, planting my ass on the counter and then he put those two big hands to my breasts.
He lifted one up.
He bent to it.
Then he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth.
Oh…
Nice.
My head fell back and my hands went to his scalp, gliding over, fingers linking at the back.
His head and my hands moved to the other nipple while he rolled the one he’d left gently with his thumb.
I was breathing heavy when his mouth went away, his hands covered my breasts, and his lips came to mine.
“You were healing,” he whispered, looking into my eyes.
“I’m fine now,” I whispered back.
“Okay,” he said.
That was it.
Mo said it was okay.
And it was okay.
He ran his thumbs hard over my nipples before he slid his hands to my back, slanted his head and took my mouth.
It was getting serious. I was enjoying the feel of that serious. Mo had moved one hand back to a breast and was kneading it, his other hand shoving in at my back so I was arched into him, when a pounding came at the door.
Mo lifted his head up.
“Mac, open this goddamned door!”
Oh man.
Smithie.
What now?
“I love my job. You love your job. I got a great family. You got a great family. We both got kickass friends,” Mo growled. “And we’re still moving to Hawaii.”
On that, he turned on his bare foot and stalked out.
I moved to snatch up my bralette and pull it on. I then grabbed the cream cotton camisole that matched the cream in the waistband of my shorts and was skintight, even if in the chest area there was less to be tight against, and tugged that on.
Then I went flying from the bathroom just as I heard, “You are not horning in on my action!”
That wasn’t Smithie.
That was Tex.
Oh shit.
I kicked up my pace and rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs only to slam into Mo’s immovable back.
He twisted to catch me with an arm and pull me to the side just as Tex caught sight of me, jabbed a finger Smithie’s way, and boomed, “Tell him! He’s not hornin’ in on my action!”
“Tex, honey, what are you talking about?” I asked in what I hoped was a calming voice.
“You asked Tex to give you away?” Smithie demanded to know…from me.
Yeah.
Oh shit.
“Tex?” he bit out. “Not me?”
Shit.
“Smithie—” I started.
“I’m her stepfather,” Tex mini-boomed to Smithie.
“I don’t give a shit,” Smithie returned to Tex.
Tex’s face started getting red.
Ah, hell.
“You got other daughters, ones you made,” Tex shot back. “Give them away.”
“I will,” Smithie rejoined. “The ones of my blood and the ones who want me to who dance for me.”
“Dance for you? Dance for you?” Tex was winding himself up and I knew he’d finished that endeavor when he put both hands to his head and then jerked them straight up, bellowing, “That’s entirely loco!”
“What’s loco about it?” Smithie retorted. “No one gets to say what family is.”
He had a point there.
Tex stabbed a finger my way with his gaze still locked on Smithie. “I sleep beside her mother.”
“I introduced her to her man,” Smithie fired back.
He kinda did that too, just not for the reason that brought us to now.
Tex gave up on Smithie and looked at me.
“He is not hornin’ in on my action.”
I had to find a compromise.
Immediately.
“Are you gonna dance with me at the reception?” I asked, thinking Tex would balk at that for sure and I could give the walk-down-the-aisle part to Tex and the father-daughter dance to Smithie.
“Yes,” Tex answered immediately.
I blinked.
“You are?” I queried.
“Fuck yes. The father dances with his girl after the wedding. Right?” Tex replied.
“Yes,” I whispered, and did it feeling Mo’s arm get tighter around me.
Tex nodded sharply and stated, “I’ve already picked the song. ‘Not While I’m Around.’”
Oh boy.
I knew that song.
Uh-oh.
I was going to cry.
While I fought that urge, I felt the room and knew Smithie knew that song too and Tex just won the argument.