Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“What about us?”
We stop near a large tree, Fletcher letting Loki’s leash extend so he can sniff around the base of the trunk. Loki’s tail is perked. Every time there’s a noise outside the park, a car or somebody yelling, he snaps his head around, on alert.
“Just the future, I guess,” I murmur, refusing to meet his gaze. Being with him has helped me break through these walls deep inside and helped me to say things I’d usually keep locked up, but this is next level.
“The future,” he repeats, his voice husky.
I swallow. We’re standing side by side as Loki takes his time with the tree. I’m guessing he can smell countless other dogs. He’s probably got a lot of catching up to do since he’s been away. It’s like a doggy message board.
“Yeah,” I say, then wait for him to reply. It takes a while. I wonder if he’s mad. I wonder if I’m pushing too hard.
No, I’m not pushing. I’ve got to stop doubting myself so freaking much. I’ve got to stop acting like I’m somehow less worthwhile than others, less able to share my thoughts.
“What about it?” he asks after a pause.
I risk a glance at him. He’s staring at Loki with a faraway look, as if he’s looking past Loki, past the tree, past the world, into the future.
“It’s what we were talking about on the date,” I say, my heart pounding hard. It’s like the frantic beating is trying to shut me up and warn me that if I keep going, I could risk everything, but I push on. “About a family. Children. Stuff like that.”
“Look at me, Samantha,” he says fiercely.
I turn with an effort. He’s staring down at me, his blue eyes blazing. He steps forward, holding the leash in one hand, gently smoothing his other around my body. He stares right into my eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. Whatever it is, you’re not scaring me away.”
I cling onto his shirt, digging my nails in, almost as if I’m getting ready for him to push me away. “Well, I was thinking, honestly, that…”
“Say it.” He leans closer, staring directly into my soul. I’m sure I can see some guilt in his eyes, some indication that he shouldn’t be going this far without his son’s blessing, but like me, he can’t stop. “Don’t leave me hanging, my perfect painter.”
The nickname sends those familiar yet captivating tingles through my body. Okay, this is it. I didn’t plan on this when I drove out here, but I’m on the edge now. I have to step forward. I’ve spent way too long hiding inside myself.
Staring right up at him, into him—it’s how he stares at me—I lick my lips. “I want it all with you,” I whisper. “The future. The family. The kids. Everything we talked about.”
For long, long seconds, he says nothing. Then his lips curve into a smirk. He thinks I’m joking. He’s going to make a wisecrack. He’s going to use humor as a method to give me an escape from this situation, but I can’t laugh at this.
I turn, meaning to walk away, but Loki is standing on my other side. I’m not sure when the little man sneaked over here. The leash wraps around one side. Loki stares up with a determined, doggy expression as though intent on keeping me here.
“Samantha,” Fletcher growls, taking my hand and turning me toward him. “I want it, too.”
“You…”
He leans down, warm breath shivering over me. “I want it, too—more than anything. I want—need—you. I need you so badly it hurts. I needed you the first moment I saw you. When I first saw you and James, I didn’t even recognize him. I just saw my woman. That’s how I was thinking of you already. My woman and I knew I had to defend you.”
I press both hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slamming and his muscles tense. “Do you mean it? Really?”
“I’ve never meant anything more,” he growls. “You and I are forever. Forever. I’ve never been more certain about anything.”
He leans down and kisses me. I return the kiss. Our mouths open, our tongues hungrily seeking each other out. I smooth my hands under his jacket, feeling his firmness, strength, and power. He grabs my hips and gently pushes me away.
“We should talk more at my place,” he says, the passion in his breathy voice telling me everything I need to know. He definitely means more than talking.
I grab his shoulders, searching his face for any sign of deceit. “Tell me you mean it. Promise. Swear.”
“I swear on Loki,” he growls. “I swear on my life. I swear on my son’s life.” We pause, both of us thinking the same thing. It’s a little ironic to use James as proof of our honor. “The. First. Time. The second I saw you, you were mine. Nothing will ever change that.”