Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“If you don’t get out of there right now, and come over here and take care of this, I’ll walk out of this house right now and leave my crutches behind.”
My eyes opened and narrowed. “No, you will not. You have two more weeks on those puppies, and you’re not fucking it up right now just because you’re horny!”
His eyes seemed to spark fire. “I wouldn’t be in this situation right now if you hadn’t worked me all up, getting me this hard,” he squeezed the bulge in his knit shorts, “And then left me high and dry.”
Literally.
“Tommy said no sex for six weeks,” I stated. “He’s adamant that any exertion on your part could possibly strain the stitches that were put in. If you fuck this up, you might not recover fully.”
He shrugged. “At this point, I don’t fucking care.”
I threw the bar of soap at him.
“You better fucking care!” I snapped. “You can’t chase after our kid if you lose your fucking foot.”
His eyes widened, his ire taking a back seat to surprise for a few moments. “You’re saying you’re pregnant?”
I shook my head. “No. But I will be one day. How are you going to teach our kids how to run and play in the ocean, or ride a freakin’ bike, if you catch another infection in the bone like you had when you were in the hospital? That could’ve been so much worse than you think, Tobias. I’m a nurse. I’m not stupid. This shit scares the absolute hell out of me, and I don’t want to see you in any more pain.”
He was right back to angry.
“I didn’t ask you to stay.”
The next thing to go sailing at him was my travel-sized bottle of lotion that I put on once I’d dried myself off.
Why it was in the shower, I didn’t know, but it was, so I’d used it.
It hit him on the shoulder.
“Fuck, ouch, that hurt.” He rubbed his muscle, and there went the need that started to race through my veins again. “Don’t be such a b…”
I threw the cap to my razor next.
It was a tiny plastic thing, but it hit him in the cheek.
His eyes narrowed.
“I know you weren’t about to call me a bitch.”
“If the shoe fits…”
I growled at him. Literally growled.
“You’re such a douchebag lately. Do you know that?” I screeched, splashing him with water.
His eyes stayed locked on mine. Both of us so angry that our breath was heaving our chests.
“Marry me!”
Those words, out of his mouth, were enough to freeze the bottle of shampoo that’d been in my hand—the one I’d been about to send sailing straight at his head if he wasn’t careful with what he had to say next.
That’s when I started to laugh.
“You’re joking, right?”
He shook his head.
“I am as far from joking as I can be right now,” he informed me. “I’ve been an ass. I know I’ve been an ass. I hate seeing you walk in, sweaty and tired, from doing the stuff that I should be doing.”
My ire disappeared.
“I like mowing,” I told him. “And I was listening to an audio book the entire time, and really didn’t want to stop what I was doing, but I was finished. So you see me hot and sweaty, but I truly had fun. I’d never lie about that.”
He held his eyes to mine.
“You didn’t answer me,” he pointed out.
My mouth curled up into a smile.
“Ask me again in two weeks when you’re cleared from the hospital.”
“Why?” He was back to snapping.
“So I can ride you until you die.”
His head dropped, and he brought his hand up to the back of his neck while still managing to hold both crutches in place.
“Two weeks is all you get.” He finally brought his head back up. “It doesn’t matter if they clear me or not. In two weeks, you’re mine. All of you.”
That ‘all of you’ was quite ominous, but he was gone before I could ask him to be more specific on what he meant when he said ‘all of you.’
***
Two weeks later, I was practically bouncing out of my chair as I waited for Tobias to get back from not only his doctor appointment where he would be cleared to go back to work, but also his re-entrance test for the highway patrol.
He’d scheduled both for the same day so that he could get back to work immediately, and now I was waiting for him at one of our favorite restaurants in town, a tiny little taco shop that was about a half a mile from Tobias’ house.
My favorite thing about this taco shop was the way that the owner, a woman named Dali, used movie titles as the order numbers. They were three by five inch cards with the name printed on them in bold print, and on the back had a description of the movie.