All Grown Up Read online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
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“But…” she started to speak.

It looked like she might’ve finally thought of a reason my idea wasn’t a good one. Whatever it was, my argument was better, though mine needed to be demonstrated. I put a finger over her mouth to stop her lips from moving.

“Screw but…” I wrapped my other hand around the back of her neck, and my mouth descended on hers before she could argue. Just like the first time, whatever fight she had lasted only a heartbeat. Our tongues met, and that ever-present spark ignited to a full-blown fire. Neither of us could get enough. We groped and pulled, tugged and pushed until we were both out of breath. When we came up for air, her eyes were glazed over. I pushed a piece of her wet hair behind her ear. “Think about it. We’d be good together.”

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I should go inside.”

I didn’t want to let her, but I knew she needed to think about it.

I nodded. “Go. I’ll wait until you get inside and lock up.”

I followed her up the stairs so I could see from the deck that she made it safely inside. As she walked to the door, I played a mental game.

If she doesn’t look back, she’s going to say no.

If she looks back, she’ll say yes.

She walked all the way to the door without a glance back in my direction. But at the very last second, just as she was about to shut the door behind her, she stopped, looked up one more time, and smiled.

Fuck yes!

Chapter 13

* * *

Valentina

“So…are we going to pretend we’re not going to talk about it?” Eve sipped her coffee and eyed me over the mug.

I sighed. “I was hoping I could at least get some caffeine in me first.”

It was almost nine o’clock. I hadn’t slept this late in years. Then again, I didn’t generally stay up until three in the morning, either. But it had been impossible to fall asleep after what Ford had proposed…not to mention…that kiss.

Eve set her mug down and picked up a bottle of sunscreen. The sun was already strong. She squirted a glob of lotion into the palm of her hand and started to lather up. “He’s ridiculously hot.”

I frowned. “I know.”

“Seems smart, too.”

“He is.”

“Has a good sense of humor.”

“That’s actually what first attracted me to him when he messaged me on Match.com. He’s witty and made me laugh about the entire prospect of dating.”

Eve finished one arm and started on the other. “Do you remember when we were ten, and I crashed my bicycle into a car that was backing out of a driveway? I steered right into it and chipped my front tooth.”

“How could I forget? You flipped over the handlebars and landed sprawled out on the concrete. You were out cold, and I thought you were dead.”

“Do you remember how terrified I was of riding a bicycle after that?”

I knew where she was going with her bike ride down memory lane. “You couldn’t be more subtle if you tried. I get what you’re trying to say, and sure—of course I’m scared to get back out there. But it’s more than that. I’m just not ready.”

“There are some things we never feel fully ready for. Did you feel ready to have a baby?”

“Of course not. But I was eighteen years old and still a baby myself.”

“Did you feel ready to get married?”

“I was also a kid.”

“Alright. Well, did you feel ready to go back to college at thirty-four? Or ready to get a divorce? Or ready for your son to move away?”

I slouched into my chair. “No.”

“We’re rarely ready for the big things in life, no matter how much we prepare. Sometimes as ready as I’ll ever be has to be enough.”

God, I hated when she was right. I chewed my bottom lip. “Last night he suggested we have a summer fling—no strings attached—since I don’t want a relationship.”

Eve held out both hands. “That’s perfect!”

I’d spent half the night tossing and turning, trying to come up with an argument against his suggestion. Unfortunately, all I’d gotten out of my soul searching was dark circles under my eyes.

I sighed. “He’s twenty-five….”

“My husband is fifty-five. Wanna trade?”

She was teasing, of course. Eve adored Tom. Besides, when the only thing “wrong” with your husband to make fun of was his age, you count your lucky stars.

Eve brought her mug to her lips and stopped before sipping. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

One finger lowered her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose. Her mouth literally hung open as she stared over my shoulder down the beach. Following her line of sight, I turned around and found Ford a few houses away—shirtless and jogging along the water’s edge. Even from fifty or sixty feet, we could see the flex of every muscle in his abs as he moved.



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