Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
The valet brings in two large duffels behind us as we make our way up the stairs. I guess that’s what the guys will be living out of until the rest of their things arrive in a couple days.
Thankfully, they help me up the stairs to the door. My heels are killing me and I still don’t feel too steady on my feet.
And finally, we’re inside. I survived the day. I kick off my heels in the entryway and glare at the ornate stairwell. It would be fine if I just crashed on the downstairs couch for just one night, right?
I’m sure I didn’t say that last thought out loud, but as if he can read my mind, Mr. Winters suddenly sweeps me off my feet. Sweeps me off my feet—I’m not kidding. One of his arms goes underneath my knees and the other under my back. Instinctively, my arms clutch around his neck.
Once again, my body is pressed against the furnace of his body. But my head is clearer than it was earlier in the night so I don’t sag against him and lay my head on his chest. No matter how tempted I am.
Plus, God, I’m aware of what a mess I must be. My eyes watered when I was throwing up earlier so my makeup must be a mess, and I can only imagine the rats nest that my hair is, not to mention my breath—
I clamp my mouth shut and resolve to only breathe out through my nose until Mr. Winters puts me down.
I don’t have to worry about it for long, though.
Mr. Winters bounds up the stairs as if I’m no heavier than tissue paper. Now, I am petite, but still. He’s running up the stairs basically bench pressing me. And by the time he gets to my room and finally sets me down on my bed, he still hasn’t even broken a sweat.
That’s it. Theory affirmed. He’s secretly a Viking god parading as a hospital oncology department administrator.
I knew it.
Dominick comes in right behind him.
“Thanks,” I blush so hard I’m sure I can feel it to the tips of every hair follicle.
I sit on the edge of my bed, my ugly orange dress crinkling in the sudden silence. Both men just look at me. Dominick’s smiling at me affably, but his father’s watching me with an intensity that makes me—I don’t know, feel hot and at the same time creates little chills that run up and down my spine.
He’s not sleeping with Mom. The thought comes out of nowhere but pings back and forth like a pinball going crazy and lighting up little neon signs all over my head. He never has and, from the apparent disgust on his face when he talked about the subject, he never will.
I look down at my toes. I got a pedicure for Mom’s big day so for once, my feet look pretty. I hide one foot under the other. Fidgety. Suddenly I’m feeling far too sober.
“Okay, well.” I break the heavy silence. Maybe I’m the only one finding it awkward? I glance up at the two men studying me as if I’m an intensely fascinating TV channel. “I’m going to get cleaned up and head to bed.” I give a short little wave. Oh God, well I just amped the awkward up to a whole new level. “Thanks for everything. Night.”
“All right, sweet girl.” Mr. Winters smiles at me like he’s amused by me, then leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
Dominick follows his lead and pulls me close with his hands on my shoulders. Then he kisses me so far back on my cheek it’s almost on my ear. It’s not a quick little peck either. It’s a slow press of his lush, wide lips. “Sleep tight, little sister,” he breathes low into my ear. Then he kisses me again, even closer to my earlobe.
By the time he pulls back I’m almost trembling, eyes wide. The feeling I had low in my stomach when I woke up with my head in his father’s lap is back. A deep swooping sensation that feels connected to parts even lower and—
What is going on—?
But he and his father both have the same smiles they did moments ago, like everything that’s happened tonight is perfectly normal. And then, without another word, Dominick heads out the door, his father following.
Two
Life with Dominick and Mr. Winters in the house is strange at first, but I quickly get used to the routine of having two extra people around. I was dreading it before the wedding—while the brownstone is big by Boston standards, it’s still only four thousand square feet. But I find that I don’t have to hide out in my room or stay at the campus library for all hours of the night like I’d been planning before the boys moved in.