Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
I don’t look away even when shame curdles in my belly at how weak that could make me appear to a man who’s so incredibly self-assured and strong.
“Maybe I didn’t see how I could do better on my own.” I lift my chin, even though it brings my mouth dangerously close to his. “But I’m learning what I’m capable of without a man. Just me.”
“And you want to be alone?”
“I want to know that if I am alone, it doesn’t mean I have to be lonely. That I can be content. I’m taking time to know and understand myself better. To converse with my heart. To listen to it.”
“I get that. I respect it.” He glances up, searching my eyes. “Is this forever? Are you saying that I can’t ever have something with you?”
A muscle twitches in his jaw while he waits, and I clearly see so much hangs on this question.
“No, I’m not saying that.”
He presses closer, laying his nose against my neck and breathing me in.
“Then I’ll wait.” His lips brush the soft skin of my throat, and I stifle a moan and pull back enough to find his eyes.
“I’m not asking you to, Judah. That’s not fair.”
His hand at my hip coasts up my back, sliding between my shoulder blades to caress my nape beneath the heavy fall of hair. “And what do you think I would be doing if I wasn’t waiting for you?”
I shrug, as if I don’t know, but I do know. I do know the risk of refusing to be with a man like Judah—eligible, successful, handsome, kind, generous, an amazing father. The risk is losing him before I ever get to have him.
“I guess you could find someone else and—”
“I’ve been divorced almost four years,” he says, lifting my chin and capturing my gaze. “Haven’t been in a relationship. Haven’t even been on a date. Haven’t been tempted to.”
I must do a bad job of hiding my shock because he chuckles and says, “I see that surprises you.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Why?”
“Have you seen yourself?” I laugh up at him. “I bet every single woman you meet and a few married ones are after you.”
“Can’t say I’ve noticed.”
“Liar.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “I’m cursed or blessed, depends on how you look at it, with this hyperfocus. I latch onto something—a goal, something I want—and it’s the only thing I see. The only thing I pay attention to. My boys have it. Sometimes for Aaron it’s an action figure or a particular cube or… whatever. It consumes him. I didn’t understand it when he was younger, but it seems some people on the spectrum fixate. Adam does, too, but not to the same extent as Aaron.”
“Are you autistic?” It’s not the first time I’ve wondered, but it’s the first time I’ve asked. I hope he doesn’t mind.
“I might be. When I was growing up, no one was paying attention to that kind of thing or naming it like we do now. I was the nerd. The odd one. The quiet one. The loner. I adjusted. It’s harder for Aaron and Adam, but I see myself in them and I see them in me, yeah.”
He shrugs.
“Anyway, our divorce was amicable, but it was a huge transition for my boys. They have been my main focus for a very long time, but after the divorce, I became kind of obsessed with making sure they would always be okay. And as they get older, I find myself focusing a lot on earning and saving for their futures even after I’m gone. There was little else that interested me.”
His smile dies and his expression sobers.
“Until you.” He pulls a long coil of my hair away from my shoulder, then frees it to spring back into place. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Perversely, even knowing I’m not going to start a relationship with him right now, it’s exactly what I want to hear. His admission blows off dusty places in my heart. After so long with Edward, who, near the end, didn’t seem to give me a second thought, it feels good to have a man like Judah unable to get me out of his mind.
“Well, since I’m not available,” I force myself to say, “maybe you should find someone else. I’m sure you have needs.”
I know I do.
I don’t voice it, but my needs where Judah Cross are concerned torture me. They keep me up at night. They would run my vibrator into the ground if left unchecked.
“Sol, when I say I haven’t had a date or an attachment since my divorce,” he says, “I mean I’ve been celibate.”
My jaw drops and I can’t even play it off.
“Are you serious?” I gasp.
“I’ve never been into casual sex.” He quirks a dark brow. “You find that unusual?”
“Well, most guys from puberty till the grave are all about pussy. So… yeah. A little.”