Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
He closed his eyes slowly, jaw flexing.
“You know my plan is to reopen the Golden Tee. To compete with the bigger courses in Palm Beach, and this is my chance. But I need to be seen as . . . as capable for that to happen. And that’s hard enough for me without also being known for having an incurable disease and a flooded pro shop. Rescued and put back on her feet by Wells Whitaker himself. I don’t want success that way. And imagine the slant on that story if we were also dating.” Heat swamped her face. “I mean, I’m not making that assumption. I just—”
“Assume all you like, belle,” he said, very adamantly. “I want to date the hell out of you.”
Even after the upheaval of the last ten minutes, she wanted to say yes. It was totally possible they wouldn’t be standing in that spot, wouldn’t have been in Texas at all, if Wells hadn’t been honest with Buck about Josephine’s circumstances. He’d done what was necessary to get them on the track to making money. But after struggling every day of her life to be seen as capable on her own, the whole thing smarted. Badly. She was mad and helpless and sick over what her parents were thinking. And she just needed to step back for a while.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she answered, finally, her throat burning.
His chest rose fast and fell faster. “Come here, Josephine.” He took a measured step in her direction. “Kiss me and tell me if you still believe that.”
She backed up a pace, holding up her hand to stop him from coming any closer, as much as she wanted to do the opposite. With every cell in her body, she wanted to plant her face between his pecs, let him wrap his arms around her, and weather the storm together. Her irritation and worry and humiliation prevented her, though. “I think skipping the tournament in DR is good timing, because it’ll give us a while to let the story die down.” Swallowing took an effort. “We’ll regroup and be ready for California.”
Josephine could sense him wrestling with the need to argue. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he drawled. Casual, when his eyes were turbulent enough to put Josephine right on the edge of second-guessing her decision.
She shook her head, holding firm. This was the right thing.
For long moments, he watched from beneath hooded eyelids. “At least let me get you safely to your room.”
Her knees nearly dipped at the very idea of him standing outside her room. The golf course was safe. Ten yards from a bed was not. “You can bring me to my floor. But you stay on the elevator.”
“Why?” He sauntered closer and this time, she didn’t even have the wherewithal to stave him off with a hand, allowing him to press his chest against her, his breath feathering the hair at her temple. “Are you worried you’ll forgive me and let me in?” He touched the tip of his tongue to the pulse pounding at the base of her neck, then lavishing it with a thorough lick. “Are you wondering what make-up sex feels like when it counts this much?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her belly fluttering wildly, along with her heart.
“Thank God,” Wells said on a gruff exhale. “At least that’s something. At least that’s hope. You’re always giving me that.” He cupped her face, alarming Josephine when she couldn’t help but turn into the warmth, like a flower receiving water. “I have no right to ask, but give me a little more hope right now. Tell me I haven’t blown my fucking chance with you.”
“I . . . don’t know,” she whispered honestly. Not wanting to lead him on until she had a chance to think without his presence muddling her brain waves, crisscrossing them with hormones. “I’ll try and have an answer by California.”
“California,” he repeated against her mouth, very concisely. “You’re a lot more confident in my ability to spend that amount of time away from you than I am, belle. I’ll tell you that.”
Before Josephine could respond, Wells took her hand, cursed beneath his breath, and stormed through the lobby with her in tow. He was silent on the ride up to her room. She could sense him right on the edge, despite his nonchalant lean against the elevator wall. She expected him to try to kiss her again at any second and worried that she wouldn’t be able to resist asking him to spend the night, because God, she needed comfort right now. Badly. More than she could give herself. But somehow, despite staring at each other right up until the elevator door closed and separated them, they stayed apart.
A week and a half isn’t long.