Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Everywhere.
He looked incredible—that was the main problem.
There was no trace of the defeated, bristling ogre she’d encountered in that hospital bed six weeks ago in Pittsburgh. None whatsoever. He accepted a key from the woman behind the desk and picked up his suitcase with no effort, the muscles of his shoulders rippling like a lake on a windy day. Had they gotten bigger? Had getting twice as jacked been part of the process for rehabbing his back?
Wow. And he had on shorts. Of course he did. They were in the tropical climate of Costa Rica, the humidity cut by a sea breeze, but still decidedly balmy. Those navy blue shorts stopped at the top of his calves and time truly slowed down as he walked through reception, the undersides of those chiseled calves flexing.
All of him, the full package, was . . . even better than before.
Great. Can’t wait to see him in a tux.
Tallulah remained cemented in place, hoping and praying Burgess wouldn’t spot her a few spots behind him in line, but obviously Sig couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, giving his friend a two-finger whistle, followed by a grunt. “Cap.”
Burgess turned, his blue gaze darting toward Sig, but only remaining there momentarily before it trained on Tallulah, his chest dipping and rising slowly, the hand around his suitcase handle tightening into a fist. The casual conversations taking place around her grew muffled, the glands on the side of her throat swelling. She needed to look away from him, but she couldn’t seem to stop cataloguing new and familiar things about his appearance. His beard was trimmed, closer cropped. No longer did he have the pale hockey complexion. There was actually some color in his face, as if he’d been spending time outside. Maybe in the roof garden.
The only thing about him that didn’t look good were his eyes.
They were sunken. Hollow. As though he hadn’t slept in months.
“Are you doing okay, roomie?” Chloe whispered covertly.
“I don’t know,” Tallulah answered, sounding dazed. “I didn’t expect to see him so soon. I would have preferred to shower first.”
“Shower and put on your revenge dress, you mean.”
“Exactly.”
“What is a revenge dress?” Sig asked, warily.
“It’s a dress you wear when you want someone to regret losing you.”
“Even more than he already does?” Sig waved Burgess over. “Doubt that’s possible.”
A bolt twisted in between Tallulah’s breasts at the implication that Burgess had been suffering, but she refused to acknowledge it. She’d dealt with more than her fair share of heartache for the last six weeks. She’d loved this man, gone to him and confessed it, despite her arsenal of fears. In return, he’d doused her feelings in kerosene, set them on fire, and told her to split. If he regretted his behavior now? Then good. He should.
That indignation and resolve didn’t stop her legs from shaking as Burgess got closer, his gaze never leaving her once. “Tallulah.” Her name was a rattle in his chest. “You look beautiful.”
Oh, I get it now. This is going to be the hardest three days of my life.
It hurt to speak, so she gave a jerky nod. “Hi.”
Several seconds passed while his eyes ran the length of her, back up, then started at the beginning to do it all over again. And all she could do was stand there and pretend she didn’t feel safe and warm for the first time in a month and a half. Not quite whole, thanks to the chunk missing from her heart, but more . . . assembled. More alive.
Which was dangerous.
Letting him get to her, letting him back in even an iota, would only lead to more pain the next time he was hurt. The next time he got wounded and took it out on her.
“We’re here, too, man,” Sig snorted, finally.
Burgess shook himself and reached over Tallulah’s shoulder to shake Sig’s hand, but his attention remained on Tallulah’s face. “Sig.” His voice was hoarse. “Chloe.”
“Hi, Burgess,” sang the blonde. “It looks like rehab was successful.”
He acknowledged that with a dip of his chin. “Yeah.” He paused, as if it suddenly hurt to talk. “Surgery and rehab fixed my back. But there’s a lot left to be repaired.”
Tallulah wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting upon seeing Burgess again. Awkwardness. Mea culpa. Another round of fighting. But this . . . open and obvious air of regret had to be the worst possible scenario. He wanted to take back what he’d said. That much was clear. Over the last six weeks, however, she’d concluded that their breakup was about more than one sharply delivered line during a bad moment. Although, her fear of settling down with someone only to find they were hiding an ugly side had been exacerbated in the hospital. The trust she’d built in him was damaged, oh yes, but their rift went beyond that.