Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
The sun hadn’t yet risen in the sky, but he was an early bird out of practice. He’d throw some eggs down his gullet, catch a workout behind the barn, and get started on production. But first he stopped at the foot of the bed and admired the view. Watching people sleep was creepy as hell. No one would blame him for stopping to check out his own wife’s ass, though, right? It was in plain view. No panties or anything.
“What am I? A monk?” he muttered under his breath, turning at the door for one final, prolonged peek before closing it behind him and heading into the kitchen. As quietly as possible, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and scrambled up five eggs, eating them in as many bites. He paused in the act of chewing, his lips twitching when a snore reached him from the bedroom. He didn’t remember any snoring from last night. Then again, he’d been passed out cold after the best blow job of his entire life.
Natalie snored. Good. They’d drown each other out.
He’d once been told by his teammates that he sounded like a grizzly with a cold.
With a smile on his face, August set his egg bowl in the sink and rinsed out the empty glass that had held his orange juice. He high-fived himself and slipped into the front yard, locking the door and testing it twice, now that he had a woman to protect. Stretching an arm across his chest to loosen up the muscle, he strode toward his makeshift workout area, reaching into the barn to flip on the rear light.
Then he got to work on the pullup bar.
Day one as a married man.
Their sexual chemistry was fire. More than life itself, he wanted to go crawl back into that bed with Natalie and kiss her awake. Get between those legs and work himself into a sweat giving her orgasms. Now that was the exercise he really wanted. But something wouldn’t let him take it all the way with Natalie yet. Not until they got on the same page. He wasn’t sure how he would feel if they had sex and she still carried on like their marriage was a sham.
Wrong. He knew exactly how he would feel.
Devastated.
No further proof necessary that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with his wife. That damn bow-wielding cherub had lodged a double arrow in the dead center of his chest. Either it was going to pierce his heart and kill him or give him a new reason to live.
You’re already living for her and you know it.
August dropped down from the pullup bar with a gulp and trod across the flattened grass to his squat rack, which he’d bought off the local gym when they upgraded their equipment. He ducked his head underneath and braced the heavy bar across his shoulders, stepping back and kicking off a round of squats.
He and Natalie couldn’t be that far from reaching common ground, could they?
She’d slept with her back plastered to his chest, thigh to thigh. They might have a lot of shit to work out between them before the marriage was solid—or “real” or whatever—but she was comfortable with him, right? At the very least, she trusted him in her sleep.
Man. He really wanted full trust from her when she was awake, too.
Wanted it with a fierce pain in his stomach.
What was holding her back?
His mission was to figure that out and eliminate whatever it was.
August had just returned the squat bar to the rack when his phone rang. Frowning over who would call him this early, he slipped his phone out of his back pocket, his shoulders tensing slightly at his CO’s name on the screen.
“Sir,” he answered briskly, his spine straightening out of habit. “Good morning, sir.”
“Cates. I’m sorry to call the morning after your wedding. I’m sure you’re busy.”
If only. August mentally sighed, flicking a look at his bedroom window. Who would know if he just crept over to the window and took one more quick look at that butt?
“It’s no problem, sir.”
“I’m calling because the transfer of funds is coming in today. Two hundred thousand.” He paused to clear his throat. “I’ve made the investment in Sam’s name.”
A cord pulled in August’s sternum. “That’s . . .” Shit. It hurt to breathe. “You knew him a lot longer than me, of course, but I think . . . I know this would mean a lot to him, sir.”
“I might have known him longer, but unfortunately, I don’t think I knew him better. This dream of a vineyard was something I never understood. Or tried to understand, I suppose.” The stilted nature of the CO’s words made it clear that the admission was difficult. Hell, having a personal discussion at all wasn’t really the man’s style, let alone one involving an emotional topic like his son. “Maybe this is my way of remedying that. After the fact.”