Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Oh, I thought….”
“You thought I’d got what I wanted,” I say gruffly, reading her tone. “And now I was done with you?”
There’s a pause, and then she speaks quietly, but there’s still a chord of confident sassiness in there. I can’t wait to support her, to watch that part of her grow.
“Maybe I did think that. Can you blame me? It’s not like any of this makes any sense.”
“What part?” I ask.
And for the record, I silently add. I’ll never be done with you.
She laughs humorlessly. “Maybe the part where you’re who you are, and I’m who I am.”
“I know it’s a problem,” I say.
“So you agree?”
“How couldn’t I? We need to tell Graham.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” she cuts in.
“What, then?” I ask.
“Never mind.”
“Hallie, tell me what you were talking about,” I demand.
Another pause, then she sighs. “It’s nothing. It’s just…why do you want me, Hayden? I don’t get it. You’re way out of my league.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you?”
My voice shifts, but not with lust this time. I want to hit something. It’s not Hallie’s fault if this is how she genuinely feels, but to hear her talking about herself this way…it’s just downright confusing to me.
“You’re beautiful,” I go on when she doesn’t respond. “You’re kind. You’re sexy.”
“Even compared to your other women?” she murmurs.
Now I laugh almost aggressively. “I don’t have any other women. I don’t have any women, in fact, Hallie. Except for you.”
I know we’re on the edge here, with me claiming her as my woman. It hasn’t even been a week since we first kissed.
It’s as much of the truth I can give away – the fact she’s mine – without giving it all away.
“Women must throw themselves at you all the time,” she says.
“Do you really want to talk about this?” I snap.
The idea of Hallie imagining me with somebody else makes me as sick as imagining her with somebody else would.
Even briefly, the concept that we’d belong to a different person is simply wrong. It doesn’t fit into my head.
“Sort of,” Hallie says softly, making me feel like an asshole.
She doesn’t know where this feeling’s coming from. As far as she’s aware, her question is innocent. And it is innocent.
I’m the one who can’t stop thinking of her as my woman, my future wife, and the mother to my children.
“I haven’t had a girlfriend in years,” I tell her. “I haven’t wanted one.”
“Because of work?” she says.
“No,” I answer honestly.
As far as possible, I want to tell Hallie the truth.
As far as possible…
That’s nothing but a way to push the responsibility somewhere else because it is possible.
I could tell Hallie the truth right now, that she’s mine and she always will be. Then I could call Graham and tell him about Hallie and me.
And I would if I could know beforehand how Hallie would respond.
If she doesn’t feel the same as me.
I can’t even think about that, even if it’s the likeliest scenario.
“Why, then?” she asks.
“I’m assuming you know what happened to my parents,” I say.
“A little,” she replies. “Dad mentioned they passed when you were teenagers, but that’s all.”
I sigh, looking out at the darkness of the floor-to-ceiling balcony windows. I know that beyond that, not too far away, my woman is lying in bed, her panties sticky after what we just did… but ready for more, for me, for us.
But if I went there now, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing more. Graham would return home not only to discover I’d kissed his daughter but also dirty talked with her, and everything else. I’d have to tell him his daughter, and I made love, and then what?
If Hallie doesn’t feel the same, it’ll end there.
We had sex, and that’s it.
It would be much sweeter to tell him I’m going to take care of her, protect her, stand by her as she carries my children – and his grandchildren – into this world.
We can’t have sex before we’ve told him.
We can’t.
But do I really believe that?
“Hayden?” she murmurs.
“I’m here,” I say.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she says quietly. “It’s late.”
“I don’t care about the time,” I snarl. “I’d talk to you until sunrise.”
After a pause, I go on. “Graham probably didn’t give you the full story because it’s so goddamn grim. Evil. My parents were involved in a murder-suicide. No, not involved. My dad killed my mom, then killed himself.”
She gasps as I close my eyes, trying not to picture the scene, trying not to imagine the vivid reds and the dread of it all.
“Oh, Hayden,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I was seventeen. It was a long time ago.”
There’s another pause, and I wonder if she’s thinking about our age gap. It clearly doesn’t bother her where the physical stuff is concerned, but I’m not sure that will be the same when we reach the next step.