Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“I don’t believe that. I won’t believe for a moment that you don’t wish things could be different. They can be different, Larkin.”
“No, they can’t. I don’t want them to be. I’m perfectly fine without you.” She was better off without him—Levi had been right on that score.
Holt’s nostrils flared. “I fucked up. I know that. But people change, people—”
“You expect me to believe you’ve changed? Really?” He couldn’t be serious.
“It’s the truth. That’s why things can be different now. I know it won’t be easy for me to gain your trust. I’m not expecting it to be.”
“It wouldn’t be tricky, Holt. It would be impossible. My demon isn’t even inclined to attempt to trust you—it wants not one thing to do with you. And neither do I.” Shaking her head, she took a step back. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Larkin—”
“Your time is up. Go. And stay gone.”
She spun on her heel and made a fast, graceful beeline for her building without once looking back. Inside the complex, she went straight to her apartment, shut the door, and leaned back against it.
Then she promptly started to shake.
Fuck.
CHAPTER FOUR
No sooner had Teague pulled up outside Larkin’s building than she came striding out of it, moving with the same purpose and confidence as always. Damn, she looked good. Her everyday outfits tended to be casual, such as tee-and-jeans combos. But she generally took things up a notch for occasions such as dinners or events. Tonight, she was wearing a pretty lavender blouse and black, skintight pants that highlighted the curves of her toned, shapely legs. Oh, and also fuck-me heels.
His demon sent him an image of her wearing those heels and nothing else while he was buried deep in her body.
Feeling his cock stir, Teague figured it was best not to think about that.
He exited Saxon’s truck, skirted the hood, and opened the front passenger door for her.
She gave him a questioning look.
“I’m being, you know, well-mannered and courtly. Guys do that for their girlfriends.” Or so Gideon said.
She sighed, shaking her head.
He didn’t miss how her gaze swept the lot almost . . . suspiciously. Huh. Once she’d hopped into the truck, he let the door swing closed, rounded the hood once more, and then slid back into the driver’s seat.
“For future reference,” she began, jamming on her seatbelt, “you don’t need to open doors for me or stuff like that.”
His skin prickled, because something about her tone was off. It was too smooth, too level, too mellow.
Larkin could be cool and calm. But mellow? No. Her default setting was ‘tetchy as fuck’. Her voice—the perfect blend of honey and smoke—was typically full of thorns and spines and barbs.
“I like doing those things for myself,” she added, her tone again uncharacteristically even. It made his demon’s hackles lift.
Knowing better than to question her about it straight off the bat, he casually clicked on his belt and then started the engine. “But a boyfriend would insist on doing it for you.” Driving forward, he cast her a sideways look. “You have had one, right?”
She shrugged, looking out of the window, the image of laidback. “I’ve had a few. They respected that I don’t want my chair pulled out, my coat held up, my doors opened, and all that jazz.”
“Respected it, or were easy to push around?”
She slid him a brief look but didn’t respond.
“My guess is that it was the latter.” He pulled out onto the main road. “Is ‘spineless’ really your type?” It was more of a taunt than a question. Normally, she’d narrow her eyes and toss a smart remark at him. This time, she only gave him a look of mild exasperation.
Yeah, mild.
Something was wrong. So wrong she’d slipped on an ‘I’m totally at ease and relaxed’ suit to hide it from everyone. Those closest to her weren’t going to buy it, though.
“They weren’t spineless; they were simply easygoing,” she said.
Doubtful. “It doesn’t weaken you or make you any less self-reliant to have others do such things for you, you know.” That earned him no response. “Were you serious about any of the guys you were with? As in, like, you-almost-took-one-as-your-mate serious?” His demon pricked up its ears, interested in her response.
She cast him another quick look. “Why do you want to know?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Just making conversation. We can instead talk about what’s bothering you, if you want.”
Oh, her look wasn’t brief this time. No, she practically pinned him to the seat with her gaze.
“Why would you think that something’s bothering me?” she asked, airy and aloof.
“Because you’re completely relaxed.”
She blinked. “That makes no sense.”
“Sure it does. In general, you’ve got this restless energy about you. Like a bird braced to take flight and pounce at its prey. Right now, you seem way too chilled out. That’s not you. Something is obviously wrong, and you don’t want to broadcast it.” He paused as he made a sharp turn. “Want to tell me about it?”