Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Grip… I need to get one.
“Life gets in the way,” he says, releasing his stranglehold on the wheel.
I sense there was more he wanted to say, but why would he share it with me? I want to tell him he can open up. He doesn’t have to be afraid. I’m willing to listen. Why would he? I don’t have the right to pry.
“It should be a fairly simple piece,” I say. “For Marty, I mean. Working from the photo.”
“Could you do it?” he asks abruptly, as we turn onto my street on the outskirts of the city, my childhood home sitting at the end of a long row.
One benefit of the job is it’s so close to home.
“I only do small pieces. I don’t—”
“I’m not asking what you normally do, Luna,” he says, looking at me with that icy fire in his eyes. “I’m asking if you could.”
He speaks with an intensity that makes me want to rise to the challenge.
“I think I could,” I say, staring at him sassily.
“Then maybe I’ll give you a challenge,” he says.
I don’t explain that the challenge wouldn’t be if I’m able to do the tattoo per se, but if I’d get crazily distracted by his rippling muscles, his husky breathing, reminding myself all the while that this man wouldn’t want me like that.
“Why?” I ask.
“Maybe I’m just cruel.”
My laughter comes easily. It’s the combination of his grumpy voice, his ironic words, and the glint in his eye telling me he’s joking.
Or maybe I’m overintellectualizing the whole thing, and it’s as simple as me wanting him with every inch of my body. Every inch of my heart and soul, wanting this man in a way I can’t understand.
“This the place?” he says, stopping the car and nodding across the street.
Our house is a two-story structure, not the fanciest or most upscale in the world, but not the cheapest either. The paint is fresh since Dad hired some of his ex-military buddies to work on it this summer, and the yard is simple but well tended.
“Yeah, home sweet home. I’m surprised we can’t hear him. I’ll just give him some water.”
“Mind if I say hello?”
He’s trying to get you alone in the house, a voice whispers.
That’s just wishful thinking again.
“Sure,” I say. “Maybe you can calm him down with your magical dog-training skills.”
“Oh, I’m magic,” he replies, laughing. “They call me the dog whisperer.”
I meet his eyes, giggling. “Who calls you that?”
“The people I just made up in my head.”
I laugh again. There’s something about him that makes it easy to let go, but I can also sense the darkness in him, remember how he snapped at me before. It’s like he’s fire and ice clashing together endlessly.
We walk across the lawn together, Kayden standing at my side, scanning the surroundings while trying to seem like he’s not. He looks up and down the street and slightly turns his back to me, as if he’s worried about an ambush.
The second I open the door, Buckie sprints out, his white tail wagging, his mouth open in a big grin. He darts between my legs.
“Buckie, wait!”
Kayden quickly leans down, moving far quicker than most men his age would be able to. Heck, most men at a full stop wouldn’t be able to move like Kayden does, his movements fluid and whip-sharp as he scoops Buckie up.
“Where are you off to, crazy thing?” Kayden says, holding Buckie firmly around the body as the little doggie tries to flip out of his grasp. “It’s okay. Hush now. You don’t have to panic. Nothing bad’s going to happen to you.”
I’m about to tell Kayden not to bother, but, to my disbelief, Buckie calms down. He lies still in Kayden’s grasp, allowing him to cradle him to his chest.
“That’s it,” Kayden says, and suddenly I know my instant desire isn’t going to fade.
Not now that I’ve seen this side of him, how he holds Buckie with such tenderness. It makes me think of Kayden holding our child in the same way with the same gentleness, cradling him or her to his chest, speaking in that hushed voice.
“That’s it,” Kayden repeats, rocking Buckie from side to side. “What’s wrong with you, eh? Think you need to take the whole world on by yourself?”
“Wow,” I whisper. “You really are the dog whisperer.”
“Huh?” Kayden says, looking at me.
I shake my head, annoyed at myself for spoiling the moment.
“I’ll just change his water and then we can go.”
“I think we should sit with him awhile first,” Kayden says. “He needs to know we’re not abandoning him.”
“Oh, okay, yeah. You’re right. I just hope Marty—”
“He won’t mind… not if I put in a word for you.”
“You’d do that?”
Kayden stares at me for a long time, his stark eyes seeming to invite me to lean in, embrace him, and join the warmth of him and Buckie.