Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
She gave me a chance, and I blew it.
Now I need her to give me another one.
“I’m sorry,” I say again when she remains silent, her gray eyes like dark pools in the dim light of the street lamp. “It won’t happen again, I promise you that.” And dipping my head, I kiss her once more—softly this time, sweetly. Or as sweetly as I can with a raging hard-on. It’s an apology kiss, a please-forgive-me gesture. That’s how I intended it, at least. But the moment our lips touch, I forget all about my intentions, so caught up in the taste and feel of her that my mind goes blank and my lust turns dark and feral. My hands move of their own accord, one to slide into her hair and the other to grip her hip, pulling her toward me as her head falls back under the hungry pressure of my lips—
“You two lovebirds coming in soon? Mary is heading to bed, and she wants to make sure you’re all set up for the night.”
Fuck. Suppressing an irritated growl, I lift my head and stare at Emma’s grandfather, who’s standing some twenty feet away and regarding us with what can only be described as a gleeful smirk. He must’ve come out to look for us and, of course, had to catch us just as I was about to remind Emma of what she’s missing.
Reluctantly, I let go of her, and she spins around to face him, blushing so hard I can see it even in this light.
“Gramps, hi! So sorry about that. We were just… We were going to… That is, we’ll be in soon, okay? Just give us another minute.”
Ted Walsh looks like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Sure. I’ll let Mary know.”
He heads back to the house, and I grab Emma’s hand, turning her to face me.
“Kitten, listen to me—”
“No, you listen,” she hisses, jabbing me in the chest with her index finger. “I will not have you playing games with my grandparents. This—whatever this is—is between us, and they have nothing to do with it, got it?”
“Got it,” I say, suppressing a smile. That fierce scowl on her face is fucking adorable, it really is. And if this is heading where I think it’s heading…
“Fine, then.” She blows out a breath, some of her fierceness easing. “In that case, you can stay for Thanksgiving. Since you’re here and all. But”—she holds up her jabbing finger, teacher-style—“this does not mean we’re back together. It’s purely for my grandparents’ peace of mind. And I’m definitely not moving in with you. You’re going to stay here tonight, celebrate Thanksgiving with us tomorrow, and then you’ll have another emergency at your fund and leave. In the meantime, you’re going to keep your mouth zipped and let me answer whatever questions my grandparents have about us. Got it?”
We’ll see. “Got it,” I confirm out loud, and before she can change her mind, I head toward her grandparents’ house, her hand firmly in my grasp and dark satisfaction humming in my veins.
My angry little kitten doesn’t know it yet, but she just lost the biggest battle of the war—and I’m not leaving until I have her full surrender.
4
Emma
My grandparents’ happy smiles greet us as we step into the house holding hands, and I know I did the right thing by letting Marcus stay—even if it means further heartache for me.
Because I meant what I said.
I’m not moving in with him.
I’m not even going to see him again after we return from Florida.
For now, though, I have no choice but to pretend he’s my boyfriend. Or at least a man I’m dating. Because I don’t want to have to explain to my grandparents at half past midnight why I’m sending away a man who flew all the way from New York to be with me—a handsome, successful man who’s undoubtedly everything they want my future partner to be.
Well, except for the part where I’m nothing like what he wants—and explaining that to Grandma and Gramps would’ve been far too painful. I would’ve broken down in tears, and they would’ve been devastated on my behalf. And very, very disappointed.
They clearly got their hopes up, so much so they told their neighbors about him.
Of course, I’ll need to tell them the truth eventually, but it doesn’t have to be tonight—or at any time during this trip, really. Because Marcus was right: it would ruin my grandparents’ Thanksgiving. It’s their favorite holiday, which is why I always try to fly in to spend it with them. They’re both meh about Christmas—too commercial, according to Grandma—but they love all the traditions of Thanksgiving.
No, it’s best if I tell them about the breakup once I’m back in New York. They’ll still be upset, but it’ll be easier to pretend I’m fine over Skype. Right now, my emotions are too tangled, too raw, especially with Marcus showing up like this. I don’t understand why he’s here, why he’s trying to make it sound like we could have a future when it’s beyond obvious that—