Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Ash is a good boss then.”
“She’s the best.” I sigh, closing my eyes. “Why are you asking about my feelings? Why aren’t you over here, trying to seduce me?”
“Is that what you want me to do? Now I feel like you’re using me for my body.”
“I’m using you for your money. Also, your body.”
He chuckles. “I’m giving you a night to get settled.”
“Oh, wonderful. Then you’re going to be all over me.”
“More or less, yes, and I think you like it.”
I roll away from him, heart racing. “No, I absolutely don’t.”
“That sounds like yes, you absolutely do.” I feel him move behind me. His body’s so warm, so big. His hand drapes over my hip, and I could brush him away, but I don’t. “It’s easy to act like you hate this, isn’t it? Easy to pretend like you don’t enjoy being my wife. Like you don’t love the way I look at you. But the hard thing is so much better.”
“I can’t be someone I’m not,” I whisper, not looking back at him. “And I’m not the girl you want me to be.”
He’s silent for a little while. His hand remains on my hip, fingers pressed firmly into my skin, until he pulls away. I feel empty when he’s gone, and I instantly regret saying that. I wish he’d come back.
“Yes, you are,” he says, his voice sounding distant. “You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
Chapter 23
Keely
Nolan’s gone before I get up. His pillow’s still warm, and his sheets smell like him. I lie in his spot, in the hollow made by his body, and feel like it’s swallowing me whole.
What am I doing here? In this lavish room, in this expensive house, in the nicest part of the city?
I grew up with nothing. My parents were lower middle class at best, but most poor people think they’re lower middle class. We didn’t have much, and it was always a source of stress. But growing up worrying about money taught me how to save, how to survive on not much, and prepared me for living on my own faster than most people my age.
Now it’s like I’ve stumbled into another world.
I get up, shower, dress, and find a note down on the kitchen island. Call 567-555-5135 and ask for a car. They’ll take you where you want to go. Love, your husband.
A car service. The idea of a car service would scandalize my parents. I call and get a ride in a very nice luxury sedan to the donut shop with only one detour down to a Starbucks drive-through.
Roger and the crew are there already. They greet me cheerfully as I head into the shop. “Crew’s in a good mood this morning,” I comment to Roger as he works on hanging a shelf. I note that he’s not having any issues at all. The bastard.
“All thanks to your husband paying double.” Roger’s grin is infuriating. “This work also beats the shit we were doing before.”
“Which was what?”
“Drugs, mostly.” He turns on the drill and powers a screw into the wall.
I decide not to press him on that. He’s either joking or my donut shop is being constructed by a bunch of dealers. Either way, ignorance is bliss.
I toss my stuff down and get to work, sweeping up, putting together signs, hanging a chalkboard on the wall, keeping busy. The place is coming together, though it has a long way to go before it’s ready to open. When I’m starting to think about lunch, Nolan appears in the front door and summarily dismisses Roger and his guys. “Get some food, come back in a couple hours.” Nolan hands each guy some cash on the way out.
I lean against the half-finished display case, arms crossed. “Are you going to throw some of that money at me, too?”
“Only if you ask nicely.” He walks over once we’re alone and tucks a hundred-dollar bill into my waistband. “Here you are, my love.”
I crumple it up and toss it aside. “Don’t be a dick. What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to see my wife. Is that so surprising?”
“Yes.” I remain glaring. “Are you always up and out so early?”
His smile is infuriating. “Did you want to have lunch together? I can work that into my schedule if it’s what you prefer.”
“No,” I say, grimacing. “I was only curious.”
“Then yes, most days I’m up early. I don’t sleep all that well.” He drifts pats me. “Happy with the work Roger’s been doing?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, afraid that if there’s any hint of dissatisfaction then Roger will end up with a bullet in his head.
“Good.” Nolan glances at me. “Show me around. I’d love to get a feel for my investment.”
I grind my jaw but acquiesce. “Here’s the front,” I say, gesturing around. “Cash register. Seating. That sort of thing.”