Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
She wrapped the sheets around her body, tapping her chin, as if contemplating whether she should say the next thing.
“What you saw in the garden…” She hesitated. I wanted to tell her not to bother, but the truth was, I was interested to know what happened. Where they’d both disappeared to.
“My father pushed me to talk to Angelo. After Bishop approached you, Angelo offered to take the conversation somewhere we didn’t have to shout over other people’s voices. I told him I didn’t hate it here. Which I guess was true until last night. He got upset and walked off. I went upstairs to my room, and on my way up, my cousin told me he slipped into a guestroom with the blonde reporter who was trying to coax Bishop into an interview.”
Kristen.
The little witch set me up, and Angelo played along. I wondered if they knew how far I’d go. They were going to pay for that little stunt. Too bad the two assholes were taken with Francesca and myself. They’d make a fitting couple.
Francesca chewed on a lock of her hair. “My mom was in my room. I’d seen her from the garden, and we talked for a while.”
Pause.
“My dad is cheating on her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was. Not for her parents. Her mother let me take her daughter away. But for Francesca herself, who had to deal with the fall of her family over a period of a few short weeks.
“Thank you.”
There was no trace of hostility in Francesca’s voice. God, she was sweet, and she was all mine. Not just her body but also her words and her courage.
I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my future wife’s pussy was going to be on my daily menu from this day forward. I put my glass on her nightstand and turned around to her, pressing a kiss on her forehead.
“Go eat your dinner, Nem.”
“I’m not hungry.” She shifted and winced. She was still sore all over, and I made a mental note to have Sterling provide her with a new warm washcloth every night for the next week.
“You can’t look famished at the wedding,” I retorted.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “What’s for dinner?”
I was still sitting naked next to her, ignoring the vulnerability of my position. Intimacy was too awkward for my liking.
“Prime rib and sautéed asparagus.”
She scrunched her nose. “I think I’ll pass.”
Such a teenager.
“What do you feel like eating?”
“I don’t know, waffles? I don’t normally crave sweet things, but I’ve had the worst day.”
My nostrils flared. I was such a piece of shit to her.
“Diner down the road serves them. Thick and fluffy. Come on. We could use the fresh air.”
“It’s eleven o’clock.” She shifted her gaze to her wristwatch, her teeth sinking to her lower lip with unease.
“It’s open twenty-four hours.”
“Uhm. Okay. Together?”
I grazed her chin. Again. “Yes. Together.”
“You don’t strike me as a waffle-eating man.”
“True, but I might eat you for dessert when we come back. It’s been a while since I’ve done that, and quite frankly, pussy has never tasted as good as yours.”
She reddened in an instant, looking away. “Your compliments are strange.”
“I am strange.”
“You are,” she said, munching on her lower lip. “And that’s the part of you I dislike the least.”
I stood up, casually slipping into my clothes again. Much, much better. Less vulnerability. More barriers. Then something occurred to me.
“Tomorrow is your first day of college.”
Of course, Francesca opted to start college a week before her wedding. We were both relieved not to have to plan a sham honeymoon. Back when we had our verbal deal, we could barely pretend to stand each other.
“Yeah. I’m excited.” She offered me a small smile, scurrying toward her walk-in closet and slipping into one of her dresses.
“Who’s driving you?”
She didn’t have a driver’s license, and I hated her parents for never bothering to teach her. She was almost like a tropical fish to them. Gorgeous in her fancy aquarium, but they put no effort into nurturing her.
“Smithy, of course.”
Of course. My blood was still making its way from my dick back to my brain.
“Time?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated. I had absolutely no idea what came over me. Not about the waffles, and not about driving her there. Up until now, I offered her independence only when she asked for it, dangling a demand over her head. If she did this, then she could have that. As we made our way downstairs, I noticed Sterling sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book and smiling. I bet she was quite smug, knowing I’d gone upstairs to get back in my future wife’s good graces. I wiped my mouth, then licked my lips for traces of my fiancée.
“Not a word,” I warned Sterling as Francesca went to get her jacket.