Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess #2) Read Online Tessa Bailey

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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Oh shit. There went his heart. Booming like a cannon. Did she mean what she was saying? Or was she shaken up over the water rescue? He didn’t care. He just wanted his bride. “Forget negotiations.” He leaned down and pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t need any fancy language to know you belong with me.”

She gave him a tearfully dubious look. “It’s not that easy.”

“I don’t want easy,” he said through his teeth. “Neither one of us wants easy.”

“So . . . what? I can’t just . . .” The rain was so loud on the roof of his truck, he had to press his ear almost to her mouth to make out the next part. “I can’t just . . . give up New York.”

August’s lungs flooded with oxygen so fast, he got lightheaded. The way she said those words didn’t sound all that confident. No, she sounded open to negotiation. As in, she was considering the alternative to returning east? Holy hell. “Yes, you can. You can stay with your husband, who would throw himself into a flood for you.”

“That’s . . .” Was she having trouble breathing? Should he perform CPR? “That’s extremely romantic, but we’re probably jumping the g-gun because we just went through something scary.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe that all it took was a standard water rescue to make you consider staying.”

A watery laugh burst out of her. “There was nothing standard about that. You were heroic. You were . . .” The muscles of her throat worked. “You could have died.”

“Me? Nah. I’m too stubborn.” Why did his response seem to upset her more? Was her lip trembling now? God, he didn’t like that. Not at all. Make her laugh. “Out of curiosity, how scary does living with me permanently sound to you? On a scale of TV dinner to flash flood.”

Not even a beat of hesitation. “Like back-to-back flash floods.”

“Thanks for your honesty,” he responded dryly. “We’ll try and work it down to a summer storm with no possible fatalities.”

Her attention dipped to his mouth and the damn thing went dry, like she’d snapped her fingers and wished it. “I love that,” she murmured. “I love some parts of the storm between us.” For long moments, they looked into each other’s eyes. Hers were uncertain, but hopeful, and so beautiful, so fathomless, a chicken bone seemed to be stuck behind his jugular. And it only doubled in size when her legs parted, ever so slightly on the seat, allowing his hips to move in closer to her heat. “Am I really considering staying longer than a month? I don’t have a real job, my family could take me or leave me, and you . . . we barely get along—”

“We are the fucking dream team and you know it. We got this.”

“Not yet. Not completely.” She closed her eyes. “Right now, this very moment, we do, though. I’ve got you. You’ve got me. Can you please bring me home and take me to bed?”

Frantically, August performed another check of his vitals and found the adrenaline hadn’t ebbed whatsoever. If anything, it had skyrocketed at the very real possibility that Natalie might consider staying in St. Helena. That he might actually have a shot at turning their marriage from one of convenience to one that would last.

Forever. Forever, if you asked his heart.

Or his dick. Because the damn thing was forever a backseat driver that wouldn’t be silenced. At the mere suggestion of sinking into Natalie’s warm, wet pussy, dude was growing like Jack’s magic beanstalk. Fuck. He was going to love on that thing so hard, he’d snap the headboard in half. Unfortunately, he might snap the girl of his dreams in half in the process. “You need to give me twenty minutes to flip my tire when we get home.”

Puzzlement knit her forehead together. “Huh?”

“The leftover adrenaline, Natalie. I need to work some of it off first or . . .” He pointed at the apex of her very smooth, very spreadable thighs. “I’m going to offend the queen.”

She did a double take. Squinted one eye. “Wait, so I’m the princess and my vagina is the queen?”

“And I’m her loyal subject. Yes.”

Silence fell.

But it was interrupted a moment later by her laugh.

A clear, musical sound that twisted his chest up in a knot and forced a hoarse chuckle from his own mouth. Foreheads flush, their bodies shook with mirth in the middle of the still-raging storm. “You’re such a weirdo,” she gasped.

“You can learn to live with it.”

She nodded, turned serious. “Maybe.” Her fingertips traveled down the front of his torso and he saw actual stars when they tucked inside the waistband of his sweatpants. “I don’t want to wait for you to flip the tire.”

“Need to flip the tire. I don’t want to hurt you.”


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