Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“I didn’t see you complaining.” I shake my head, smiling softly. “Come on, babe. Where are your bags?” He offers his hand.
“In the back seat.” I so badly want to ask what’s going on, why he’s tired, and every other question churning in my head. The words are on the tip of my tongue until he’s guiding me out of the truck, not letting go of me the entire time as he opens the back door, grabs both my bags as if they weigh nothing, closes it, and then shuts the driver’s side door now that I’m out of the vehicle.
“Keys?” I show him the ring wrapped around my pointer finger, holding them in the palm of my hand. “Lock it up, babe.” The key fob makes a beeping noise. I was already planning on hitting the button before Trace mentioned it.
“Trace, if we need to reschedule, I won’t be upset, promise.” He’s so lost in marching us toward his front door, I’m taking two steps for his one; my stride is that much shorter than his. My whole body is. He’s taller, bigger, and honestly, when he holds me, I feel like I’m wrapped up in a cocoon because his body swallows my own.
“That’s the last thing I want, Josie. Give me a minute. This conversation isn’t for prying ears. There are already eyes all over it, and I know it’ll make the old men and ladies’ tongues wag.” I don’t respond as he opens the door, and I’m taken back in time. Nothing has changed. It’s still an amazing place, bright and open with dark moody tones. The last time I was here, it lasted an hour, but it was an incredible hour, even if I did run away with my tail between my legs.
“Shit.” I’m wondering if maybe the people in his life aren’t taking us being together so great. It was a good thing Trace didn’t come over today. I forgot about the lunch date Mom scheduled for me to have with my dad. Needless to say, I was running around after sleeping in once again, then hightailing it an hour away to have lunch that went far better than I could have imagined. I’m pretty sure Mom had something to do with that, a forewarning or one of those ‘if you say one wrong thing to our daughter, you’re sleeping on the couch’. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least; she’s made him do it more than once. He kissed my forehead, said I’m an adult now, he loved me and trusted my gut. Thank goodness, because the way Trace is talking, it could be a million times worse than anything I could possibly think about.
“That’s about the size of what I stepped foot in. You want a drink?” He drops my bags off on the couch, his hand still wrapped around mine, leading the way, and I have no choice but to follow.
“I’m thinking I need one, and so do you.” He chuckles low in his throat, moving us so I’m sandwiched between him and the kitchen counter, hands wrapping around my waist before he hoists me up with one firm movement, like I weigh nothing, which I guess compared to Trace is true. My legs open for his hips. He pulls me closer until we’re meshed together, pelvis to pelvis, my head tipped up so I can see his gray eyes, reminding me of the fog lifting over blue clouds before the sun rises.
“Yeah, stay put. I’ll grab us a couple of beers, and I’ll let you know what I figured out last night on my way home from your place.” Trace cups my cheek one more time, thumb sliding beneath my eye. I place mine over his, squeezing it in solidarity. Whatever he says is eating him up inside, I can’t even pretend to know what it could be. Instead, I stay silent. Trace gives me his back, muscular shoulders in his cotton tee, tapered waist, and long legs in perfectly worn-in and well-fit blue jeans. “I saw Wes last night. Wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t sure how to handle it, so called Coop and Gia, decided to meet up with them this morning at the restaurant.”
“Trace, please don’t ruin your relationship with Wes over me. He’s your son. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let me be the catalyst to break it all,” I interrupt, needing to get my statement out in case I break down and run away once again. The way I feel about Trace is one I never experienced or expected. He spins around, jaw clenched, fire in his eyes. He does not like my idea whatsoever.
“You’re not leaving me. Never again, Josie. Especially not because of Wes. I doubt very seriously he’s got a leg to stand on when it comes to our relationship. Even if he did, I’d tell him to fuck right off.” He pops the top of the bottles off, one then the other, unlike me, where it takes a towel or at least two tries to break the seal on the metal lids. I’m handed a bottle and hold it between both of my hands. The lead sitting in my stomach causes me to rethink drinking the ice-cold drink. Trace doesn’t have that problem. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes one heavy pull, swallowing as he does. Damn, even his throat is sexy and has me wiggling in place. “I didn’t actually talk to Wes. I saw him with a woman who isn’t his fiancée,” Trace admits after he takes another drink of his beer. The knot in my stomach loosens and then tightens yet again. My time with Wes wasn’t long, and we barely did anything. My feelings weren’t as deep as they are with Trace. The orgasm he gave me the first time told me all I needed to know. That didn’t make the rumors around our school not ding a bit at my pride, since he was screwing every girl he could behind my back. I take a sip of my beer, hurting for his fiancée.