Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I confessed, smiling, surprised that my face could still do that.
“Don’t need to say anything,” he murmured. His cheeky grin was gone, replaced by something somber and soft. Almost … reverent, tilting the earth beneath me.
No one had ever looked at me like that.
“Your body is not a graveyard, Ri,” he referenced what I’d said almost two years ago, cradling my face. “It’s a garden. And it’s blooming now.”
For the first time in years, a tear trailed down my cheek, a tear for me. And fuck if it didn’t feel like it was watering something, nourishing something.
Colby wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Now,” he rasped. “Take off your clothes, and put on the boots so I can fuck you in them.”
My blood sang at his request.
Which I didn’t hesitate to obey.
It was safe to say my new boots were the foundation for the construction of the new me. Not that they fixed everything. Even Christian Louboutin couldn’t fix me completely. But it was a start.
Even though we didn’t explicitly say anything about leaving, I started packing once we were dressed again.
I still hadn’t graduated to taking my shirt off during sex, and I was grateful Colby didn’t push me. I wasn’t ready for that yet. But I was ready to get out of this motel.
Colby didn’t say anything as I stuffed my scant belongings in the duffel, deciding to trash the beauty products that consisted of a cheap bar of soap, cheaper eyeliner and lipstick.
“We’re gonna need to stop at a Sephora,” I told him when I returned from the bathroom.
He nodded, the smart man that he was.
“Before we go back, I need to, um … I think I need to go to Utah,” I stated, not looking at Colby. “I think that’s what I’ve been lying to myself about this entire time. Driving around the fucking country looking for something, thinking it was vengeance when really, I’m just a kid who wants her parents’ approval.”
Saying it out loud was all the more confronting. I’d been lying to myself for a while now. I hadn’t wanted to admit that I needed anything from my parents. I didn’t want to need anything from anyone.
“Okay, got a condition, though,” Colby said without hesitation.
I braced for the condition. For him to demand I recount every second of what happened in that warehouse. My fingertips went numb, and my knees started trembling.
“I’m not getting your name tatted on my ass,” I teased, trying to hide the terror that had just coldcocked me.
Colby looked at me with a blank expression for a handful of seconds before he burst out laughing.
I watched him as he got a hold of himself, petering down to chuckles. It occurred to me then that I hadn’t seen Colby laugh like that in … years. Years.
Just because I hadn’t seen it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. We’d spent a good time apart these past years. But I got a feeling that he hadn’t laughed like that in years.
“Isn’t that what you bikers do?” I stomped with false irritation, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Don’t you brand your women like cattle?”
This renewed a second round of chuckling that made me feel warm.
“We don’t do anything to our women without their express condition,” he replied seriously. “Though I wouldn’t mind getting your name on my ass.”
I rolled my eyes.
“If the lady would be willing, though I’d prefer it on my chest,” he amended.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “You better still be joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” his eyes were twinkling, but he still looked far too serious for me.
Colby was not joking. About getting my name tattooed on his chest.
“I can’t handle that right now,” I told him honestly.
“Okay,” he replied easily, still alternating between his laidback casualness and the intensity that had come with the presentation of the boots.
“What’s the condition?” I braced myself.
“We get someone to take care of your car, get it back to Garnett, and we do the trip on my bike.”
I gaped at him. I didn’t doubt the club’s ability to arrange that. “On the bike?”
He nodded. “Might take us a little longer, but it’s a good time of year for it. And I’m selfish. It’s been almost two years without you. Riding across the country with you on the back of my bike is as close to heaven as I can dream up.”
My body tingled and warmed at his words. I couldn’t even rustle up any kind of sarcastic comment to deflect from the real feelings he was communicating.
“It’s not going to be good,” I warned Colby, pushing away that warm feeling. “The meeting with my parents,” I clarified. “It’s going to be ugly.”
Colby cupped my face. “I can deal with ugly, babe.”
He was right. He dealt with me. He’d been at the warehouse that day. And somehow he was still here.