Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“You were probably a kid yourself, right?” I say, patting his back.
“It’s no excuse.”
“Despite what Drew calls you in bed, you’re not God,” I say, thankful when he chuckles.
His lips press to my neck. It’s then I realize that his little kisses aren’t sexual. They’re thank-you kisses. I don’t think he even realizes he does it.
I can’t wait to jabber about what this means to my therapist.
“We leave them alone for two hours and they decide to have sex in the snow,” Mia says, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Brayden lifts up and wipes at his eye with the palm of his hand. Drew zeroes in on the fact he’s upset and tugs him to his feet. I climb to mine, dusting off the snow, and then hug Mia.
“Hey, girlfriend,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
“Hey, boyfriend. Your car won’t start?”
Brayden’s sad moment melts away to fury once more. “Travis slashed his tires.”
“He what?” Drew snarls, stomping over to my car. “What the fuck, Ashton?”
“It’s fine,” I snap back. “I’ll call a tow truck and have tires put back on before the end of the week.”
“It’s not fine,” Drew spits out. “This is so fucked-up!”
“Let it go,” I warn.
He pulls out his phone and starts dialing. “Non-emergency. Thank you.”
I grit my teeth, shooting Drew daggers with my eyes, but he ignores me.
“I’d like to report a vandalism,” Drew says and then rattles off the address.
As soon as he hangs up, I flip him off. “I said I handled it, Daddy.”
“Pretending it didn’t happen isn’t handling it,” he throws back. “You better tell them it was Travis or I will.”
All I can think about is the goddamn video.
Drew definitely doesn’t need to be the one to tell them.
“Fine,” I grit out. “I’ll tell them I think it might be him. Happy?”
He nods, some of the tension melting away. “How did the date go?”
“It was fine until you two interrupted the happy ending.” I smack Mia’s ass. “Take us for ice cream after the cops show up, Daddy Drew. You owe us.”
He flips me off.
“Holy shit,” Brayden says, staring up at the front of Ashton’s family’s cabin. “If this is your vacation house, I’m afraid to see what your home looks like.”
The authentic, three-story, log cabin with forest green shutters is situated on what appears to be several acres of land and looks like it’s part of a movie set for a Christmas movie.
“It’s as pretentious as this one,” Ashton says, grabbing my luggage and his own out of the back of the SUV he rented since his car is out of commission. “This was my mom’s anniversary present to my dad,” he adds. “Nothing says ‘Happy Anniversary, sorry for fucking my twenty-year-old trainer’ like a vacation house at his favorite ski resort.”
The bitterness dripping in his words has me reaching over and squeezing his bicep. Ashton’s way of handling pain is by being sarcastic, but I know him well enough to know that he uses his smart-ass comments to push down the hurt and resentment he feels toward the way his parents behave. The funny thing is, they both love him, but he can’t see past their imperfections to understand that.
Once we’re inside, I glance around in awe. I’ve lived a life of luxury. My parents have a sky-rise condo in New York, a beach house in The Hamptons, and my childhood home was on a documentary about the most expensive homes of the rich and famous, but this cabin… Wow! I knew Ashton came from old money, but I had no idea just how wealthy he is. It makes my parents’ beach house look like a shack. The walls are all real wood, the ceilings vaulted. I expected the inside to be gaudy, similarly to the way Wendy dresses, but it’s actually beautiful. With rustic wood furniture, a massive floor-to-ceiling double-sided fireplace, and cozy looking plush, leather couches, it makes me want to cuddle up with Ashton by the fireplace and drink hot chocolate.
“Mia and I get the master bedroom,” Ashton says. “There are eight other rooms, pick whichever one you guys want, but you might want to pick a different floor.”
He smirks devilishly and I know something sexual is about to come from his mouth. I’ve given up on trying to stop him, and instead just embrace the fact my boyfriend wants me all the damn time and isn’t afraid to show it. “You’ve heard how loud my girl is, and this weekend I plan to stay buried inside her as much as possible…” He pauses, tilting his head slightly in mock thought. “On second thought, feel free to room next to us. I know how much you like listening.” He winks at Brayden, who groans, his face and neck slightly turning pink, and I stifle my laugh, not wanting to encourage Ashton.