Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“For a bit,” he swiftly replies yet makes introductions immediately after. “Chase Bowers this is my girlfriend June Bailey. June Bailey this is Chase Bowers. He uh…He served with my dad.”
“Frost also got me my cushy private sec job at Haworth,” Bower informs during our shaking. “He was a great guy. One of the best, actually.”
My volume is meeker than intended. “I believe it.”
“After Frost died, a few of us took it upon ourselves to keep in touch with Tuck. Occasional beers or wings when he comes to town. Holiday texts. We try not to impose too much on him, but we knew the little guy might still need some fatherly shit every now and again.”
“Not little,” Tucker lightly chuckles on a wave of the hand across his frame.
“Yeah, I noticed that shit when you scrapped with him.” He kicks his chin to Norm who is rubbing the red area on his throat. “Everything okay over here?”
“I’m good.” My boyfriend shoots a devious smirk to Norm. “You?”
“Yup.” He clears his throat during another soothing stroke of the bruised area. “I uh…I think I just need some water and to take a leak before stepping in a booth. Which way is the head?”
“I’ll escort you,” the other member of security casually declares. “It’s over by my wing.”
They walk off in one direction while Bowers diverts his attention back to Tuck. “Why don’t I escort you two off to the booth areas?” His grin is overly cordial. “You know. Make sure no more possible trouble comes for you?”
My boyfriend expresses his gratitude at the same time he returns his arm around my waist. “Appreciate it, Bowers.”
Humming machines and clamorous chatter reverberate around the nearby hall we enter. Quite a number of people seem to recognize the man at my side given the way they call out to him. Wave. Sneak in a fist bump or high-five. His popularity shouldn’t surprise me however for some reason it does.
Maybe because I’m not used to being out with someone everyone seems to know?
Maybe because it’s not my style to be next to the main subject in a room outside of volunteer work?
Our safe arrival at the last curtained booth is followed by Bowers offering us a polite nod. “You two enjoy your time in there and be safe.”
“We will,” my personal artist for the night reassures.
“I’ll see you two in a few weeks for Britt and Rich’s reception.”
Rather than agree – which would personally bring me comfort – Tucker simply waves him off. And instead of allowing me to touch on the topic, he inquires about the one at hand, “Any requests?”
“To know more about this dainty blonde?” I mindlessly reply.
Seeing his expression harden isn’t any more surprising than the headshake I’m presented.
“Okay, if I have to take off my top and dance around – something we both know I’m awful at – with paint on my nipples then I think the least you can do is distract me while waiting with information that makes you as uncomfortable as you’re making me.”
“That wasn’t the deal, June Bug.”
“I’m renegotiating the fine print.”
His eyes twitch a tiny, displeased glare.
Honestly?
No idea where this inner strength shit keeps coming from. I mean, yeah, Tucker constantly tells me what a goddess he thinks I am and how amazing, but I didn’t think I would ever really buy into it outside of our bed.
The bed.
The bed that we sometimes share.
Often share.
Have shared every night since the bedroom blowie at his parent’s estate.
“Fine,” he snips while dragging over the stool, “but in exchange for your additional clause, I come with my own.”
“My shorts are staying on!”
He lightly laughs and shakes his head. “Nah. Letting the world get a glimpse at your magnificent tits is more than enough. After the little incident with Norm, I’m already having second thoughts about that.”
“Should we have third and fourth thoughts too?” Eagerness can’t be kept out of my own. “Maybe fifth and sixth over some froyo? About fifty or sixty miles from here?”
Tuck playfully rolls his eyes. “We’re already here, June Bug. We’re doing this.”
Ugh.
I knew he wouldn’t back down.
“However, I tell you about the woman Norm mentioned, and you let me paint whatever I want on you.” The mischievousness waltzing around his gaze is oddly unsettling. “Agreed?”
Fear fiercely battles with curiosity leaving me momentarily silent.
If we list this shit out – accordingly – I’m pretty sure I could logically deduce what he’s more likely to doodle on me. Tucker may be a man of secrets and mysteries, but he’s not a purposely cruel guy.
Unless you’re his mother.
Although, I’m pretty sure even that has a logical reasoning behind it even if I don’t know what it is.
Exchanging anxiety for trust, trust he’s rightfully earned is what gets me nodding in acceptance. “Agreed.”
“Tops off,” my boyfriend instructs while grabbing a nearby oversized Ziploc bag. “And then we begin.”