Claim Me Forever (Time River #3) Read Online A.L. Jackson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Time River Series by A.L. Jackson
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Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
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I loved it for them, that they had this extended family that loved them fiercely.

That didn’t mean I hadn’t been reticent to let them go, that shaky unease that always took me over when they were away rolling through me on a wave of apprehension.

A part of being a parent, I supposed, though I knew a whole ton of it had to do with what had happened with Brianna. I was already crazy protective, but after that…?

Overbearing.

I almost chuckled as my gaze drifted out over the yard, drawn in the direction of the woman who had me in fists.

When I’d dropped the kids off, Paisley had patted me on the cheek and told me to go have some fun.

I’d come right back here, not a chance that I felt like hitting a bar, not an ounce of desire to chat up some random girl when the only one I wanted was here.

During that time, I’d done my best at minding my own business because peeking out the window hoping to get a glimpse of Savannah seemed like a creeper move, though that hadn’t seemed to matter all that much when I’d given in after I’d heard her car roll up about twenty minutes ago.

I mean, she had all but given me permission.

But I’d felt like I might lose my mind since she’d been gone late. Out of her normal routine, which it really was none of my business what she was doing, but I couldn’t help from worrying.

Wondering where she’d been. If she was fine. If she was safe.

If she felt even a modicum of the need I felt every time she got within a hundred yards of me.

It’d taken all my restraint in the hallway at the café not to put my hands all over her. Not to kiss her the way I’d been dying to do. Not to hoist her into my arms and press her into the wall and tell her I couldn’t fucking stand the idea of that prick touching her when she’d asked if I was jealous.

She wasn’t mine to claim, but fuck, I’d wanted to.

That was the last time I’d seen her, and to say I wasn’t dying to catch a glimpse would be a lie.

I didn’t feel bad about coming out here, though. Not when I’d caught her peering out of her window about five minutes ago, the barest ripple of movement behind her curtain before she was gone.

But I’d felt it in that flash.

The tugging at my insides that was this woman. A magnetism in the air. Gravity calling me closer.

The light in her bedroom window flipped on before it went out about two minutes later, though a soft glow remained, one that made me assume the bathroom light was on and flooding into her room.

A bolt of need had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat, boots planted on the wooden planks like they could keep me grounded, tension wrenching my muscles as I thought of her tucked behind that wall. Imagining what she was doing right then. If she was changing or maybe stepping under the spray of the shower.

If she wanted her privacy or if she was thinking about me.

Contemplating, I glanced down at my phone that I had rested on my thigh. Maybe I should leave well enough alone because the direction of my thoughts were only going to land me in hot water.

It was the wrong fucking time for me to fall. For me to bring someone into my kids’ lives. For me to go putting my heart on the line, but I was afraid it might already be there.

Bottomline, I was going to lose my goddamn mind if I didn’t at least talk to her.

My fingers punched awkwardly on the screen, unsure of what the fuck to say.

Me

How are you?

There. Simple. Friendly.

After ten minutes, I’d given up on her texting back, and I started to stand to go back into the house. Only my chest tightened when a text bleeped through, and I dropped back onto the chair so I could read her message.

Savannah

Are you thinking about me, Ezra Patterson? And here I thought you’d forgotten all about me.

Taking a swig of my beer, I stared at the illuminated screen, at the glare that made me feel like I could tumble right into it to get to her.

Me

There is no forgetting you, Little Trespasser.

Savannah

Yet four days have gone by, and I haven’t heard a peep from you. That’s not very neighborly of you.

Amusement and a shock of need twisted through, and I fought a grin, unimmune to the flirtiness seeded in her words. Loving that she wanted to come out and play. I also knew whatever was brewing between us was far too intense to write it off as inconsequential.

Me

Four days too long for you, Little Trespasser?

Savannah

I think it might be.



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