Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Noah’s eyes narrowed, studying her face as he asked, “And why would you make a condition like that? Can you already tell you’re not interested in being more than friends with me?”
“It doesn’t matter what I’m interested in. That part of my life is over.”
He shook his head, moving closer until the smell of her—lemons, herbs, and the salty smell of feminine sweat, a smell that made him want to taste her more than ever—rushed through his head. “Over? As in…”
“As in I never intend to seriously date anyone ever again. A night of fun here and there is all I’m up for, nothing more serious than that. So you can either take it or leave it.” She lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back, clearly ready to defend her decision if he was stupid enough to mock her.
But he had no intention of mocking her. Now that he was closer, he could see the fear that roared beneath the humor and sass. He knew that kind of fear. It was the kind that had wrapped its thick fingers around his throat when he’d been told he had testicular cancer, the same cancer that had killed his father. He’d beaten that monster three years ago, but the fear lingered.
That’s why he’d made arrangements to have his sperm banked as soon as he’d recovered from treatment. Anxiety that the cancer would come back and take what it hadn’t the first time—his ability to father a child—had haunted him. Banking ten samples that could provide several insemination attempts each had helped smother those worries. And selecting a facility with both California and Texas locations, close to family, was another level of precaution, though in hindsight, it was likely more his looking ahead for when (and where) he saw himself setting down roots.
But Yasmin’s fear was clearly still burning bright. It was a cold wind howling outside her door, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to let anyone in.
No, he didn’t blame her, he blamed whatever son of a bitch had hurt her, scared her, made this beautiful, young, vibrant woman believe that she had no choice but to lock the doors to her heart and hang out “condemned pending demolition” signs. The man who made it clear that Yasmin was still running away from him as fast as she could, even though she was standing close enough to touch.
Noah didn’t consider himself a violent man—he’d only been in a handful of fights and most of those when he was in school and had become the self-appointed defender of fellow nerds not gifted with his muscle mass—but right now he wanted to smash a fist into the face of the man who’d done this to Yasmin. He wanted to beat the unholy shit out of the man, until he was lying bruised, broken, and harmless at her feet, proving she had nothing to be afraid of anymore.
But beating her ex to a bloody pulp wouldn’t fix the things that were broken. His best chance at getting through to Yasmin was to honor her boundaries and hope that maybe, for the right man, those boundaries might be redrawn.
He nodded seriously. “I’ll take it. And when I move to Lonesome Point, I would be honored to be your friend.”
She blinked, seeming surprised by his answer. “But you don’t even know me.”
“Just call it a hunch,” he said, grinning as he tossed her words back to her. “Meet me by the gazebo at six tomorrow? And we can decide where to go from there?”
“All right,” she said softly. “But we’d better meet outside the thrift shop, instead. The main part of the square will be crazy tomorrow night. It’s when they announce the King and Queen of the festival.”
Noah glanced down the hill, shaking his head when he saw the rooster still stalking the patchy grass near the shop’s rear parking lot. “Will it be safe? I’m assuming someone will have contained the poultry threat by then?”
She waved an easy hand through the air. “My mom will have Sampson back in his pen before the hour is through. He plays it tough, but he’s a mama’s boy.”
“I bet,” Noah said, nodding seriously. “The other guy that went for my balls in a fight was a mama’s boy, too. They always fight dirty.”
She laughed, her cheeks pinking, transforming her pretty face into something breathtaking. Noah literally had to take a beat to remember how to exhale. By the time he did, her laughter had been swept away on the summer breeze, and she was backing away from him once again.
“Do you need me to walk you down?” he asked. “Watch your back? I know I wasn’t much help the first time, but I can, at least, throw my body between you and danger.”
“No, thanks. That’s a noble offer, but I’ll be fine. I’ll head around the other side of City Hall and stay out of the line of fire.”