Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
He walked more fully into the room, leaned back against the table, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Explain."
"They're not mine. I mean . . . I bought them for someone else."
He raised one eyebrow in obvious disbelief, dipped his head, and waited for her to go on.
Her words stalled in her throat as she thought about how pissed he was going to be. Sure, his anger would change, it wouldn't be directed at her in such a catastrophic way, but he'd still be pissed. When she didn't answer, he said, "You expect me to believe that someone in this day and age is embarrassed to buy condoms? Do you have a fifteen year old brother you haven't told me about?" He snarled sarcastically.
"Damian," she tried to soothe. "They're just condoms. It's not a big deal."
"I want a name. I want you to try to convince me you're telling me the truth," he snapped, all patience gone.
She sucked in a breath. "They're for your mother."
His expression turned to one of a boxer in a ring who'd just had his bell rung. He actually shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "What?"
Instead of answering his question, Angie shook her head and told him how she was feeling. "I feel like I just left your mother out to dry." She took a deep breath. "Like I just threw her under the bus."
"My mother?"
Angie shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that you weren't supposed to find out."
"This is bullshit. You're making it up. You know damn good and well I can't corroborate your story." He turned away before zeroing in on her once again. "My mother. You really want to go with that?"
He continued to watch her for a few seconds with a withering stare while Angie remained quiet.
His expression changed to one of indecision, and Angie could tell that he was actually pondering whether it could be true or not. She didn't want to push the truth on him, but it was the truth. "I get that she's your mother, but she's a grown woman. Your father has been dead for seven years, and she's finally ready to move on. She's still vital, still vibrant--"
"Holy fuck," he hissed in amazement, "You're telling the truth."
Angie took a deep breath and nodded her head.
"My mother is having sex with somebody?"
Angie relaxed a tiny bit and her lips quirked. "Well, not quite yet, but--"
She stopped speaking when he held up his hand with an abrupt movement. "Don't say anymore. I don't want to know."
Her small grin turned into a smile. "I get what you're saying. But think about me! I had to have a sex talk with her!"
"Stop!" His eyes narrowed as he held up a hand. "Not another word. I don't want to know about it. I don't even want to think about it."
Angie nodded, thankful his fury had abated. She still felt some unease about the way he'd acted and the things he'd said the night before, but she had to cross one bridge at a time.
They watched each other in silence for a few seconds. "You still want to get out for a while?" he asked. "This has fucked me up. I need a drink. Have you eaten?"
"I could use a drink," she offered.
"Let's go."
****
An hour later¸ they'd eaten and were finishing up. As they waited for the bill to arrive, Damian reached over and picked up her hand. He'd had only one drink with his meal, but still, the alcohol had mellowed him just a bit and Angie could feel the heat of his palm searing into hers as he laced their fingers together. His mouth tightened as he watched her and his voice rumbled across the table, "Seeing those condoms fall from that bag almost decimated me."
His words were so low and contained such an edge of vulnerability that Angie felt a trace of tempting heat. A vulnerable Damian was new. It made her forget about his callous attitude from the night before. And it was making her heart beat more quickly. "I'm sorry," she offered, not knowing exactly what to say.
His thumb dragged back and forth across her skin. "I'm just saying, I didn't like the feeling--the thought of you in bed with another man."
"You don't have to worry about that," she whispered.
His eyes glinted and refused to release her from their hold. "Are you sure?"
She dipped her head. "Yes."
"Is it something you worry about, too?" His brows drew together with a frown. "I mean, do you think I'm still screwing other women, or do you even care?"
Her pulse went into overdrive. "Of course I care. But I know you're not. I know you wouldn't do that. I'd thought we'd agreed on that when I got on the pill."
He shook his head. "We tiptoed around the subject. Maybe we need to say it out loud. Maybe I want to hear you say loud and clear that it's just you and me." He examined her closely, his gaze focused. "Because that's the way I feel. I haven't looked at another woman since you. I haven't wanted to."