Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“I’ll call nine-one-one,” Jensen offers, and I nod my head while continuing to whisper words of reassurance to my unconscious soulmate.
I finally release the breath I’ve been holding when her golden eyes pop open. “Oh no.” She takes me by surprise and manages to push me back just before she leans forward to throw up all over my shoes. “Please, kill me now. I can’t believe I puked on you,” she groans and slumps back onto the seat.
“Tell them to get the ambulance here pronto,” I call to Jensen as I lean over her and gently feel around her head for signs of a head injury. As an AHL head coach, I’ve seen my share of concussions and she’s exhibiting all the symptoms. “Don’t worry, Tigress, you’ll be okay. I don’t give a fuck about my shoes,” I tell her, attempting to ignore the concern for her flowing through my soul.
“I’m fine.” She attempts to sit up again, but I gently push her back down. “Really,” she insists and smacks my hand away. She might’ve gotten away from me once, but I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m going to find out everything there is to know about my girl, and then I’m going to fucking tie her to me forever.
“I’m not taking any chances with your health, Tigress. You might have a concussion.” Where’s the fucking ambulance? I need to make sure my soulmate isn’t seriously injured before we can discuss her running out on me. I plan to take every single second of my misery out on her sweet curvy ass just as soon as I find out she’s okay. “I want you checked out.”
“I’m a nurse.” My girl stands up and shoves me back a step. “And I don’t need to be checked out. I know I don’t have a concussion since I didn’t even hit my freaking head.” I know I’m in trouble when my cock goes from zero to sixty instantly at her adorable huff. This girl already has me tightly wrapped around her little finger and I can’t deny her anything. Except this. Her health and safety take precedent over everything else.
“If you hit it hard enough, you could have a concussion that is affecting your memory.” Why the fuck am I arguing with her? Oh, yeah. I motherfucking love to see the sparks shoot from her golden eyes when she’s annoyed.
Isn’t it just my luck that my consequences would come back to bite me in the rear on the worst possible day? After puking my guts up for the last three months, I finally got up the nerve to take a pregnancy test. A test that I already knew was going to be positive since all the signs have been there since a couple of weeks after my tryst with my mystery man, but I still hoped for a miracle.
When the tiny plus sign appeared in the pregnancy test window, I went from terrified to incredibly excited within a few seconds, but then I got rear-ended by my consequences. Literally. And those consequences arrived in a tall, dark, and bossy caveman package that I had given up ever seeing again.
“Gray,” the other man calls, and Mr. Caveman turns to him. “Dillon and the ambulance are about three minutes out.” Just what I need. More witnesses to my humiliation.
My mystery man’s name must be Gray, and I already know Dillon is probably Sheriff Dillon Armstrong. This situation just keeps getting better and better. My best friend, Ciara, is married to one of Sheriff Armstrong’s close friends, and I’m betting it won’t take more than a few minutes for everyone to know all about this incident. “I don’t need an ambulance.” I didn’t suffer any harm when his car collided with mine, and I definitely don’t want my mystery man to hear I’m pregnant from the EMTs.
“What’s your name?” he growls, and my head spins at the change of subject.
Before I’m able to answer, his friend snorts. “You don’t even know her name? Wait until the guys hear this.” My mystery man turns and glares at his friend, shutting him up, while I wish for the ground to open up and swallow me.
When the mystery man switches his attention back to me and raises an eyebrow, I square my shoulders and hold out my hand. “Carlie Martin.” When I woke up this morning, I worried about raising my child alone, but fate had other plans in store for me. I hold my breath, waiting for him to introduce himself.
“I think we’re past handshaking.” He smirks and leans over to place a soft kiss on my cheek but doesn’t satisfy my curiosity. “Well past it, Tigress.”
“Are you going to tell me your name? Or do you just want me to call you Mr. Neanderthal? Since we’re into nicknames and all.” It might be a terrible idea, but I can’t resist needling him. Knowing I caused fire to flash in his dark eyes while the vein at the base of his throat furiously pounds sends butterflies fluttering around in my belly.