Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
I’m his wife.
And a damn sexy one, at that.
He’d woken up dreaming of her again, not knowing what the day had in store for him as he marked another X on his calendar. Maybe fate was on his side, since he shouldn’t have been here this afternoon for her to run into in the first place.
Why was she here?
For the last week he’d been working nights at the bar while Pat’s grandson was marking something off his bucket list—deep-sea fishing off the coast of somewhere tropical—so the request for help during the early lunch rush was unexpected.
He’d been clearing tables when the barely sober couple walked in and started scaring the regulars with their dodgy behavior. This was an oddly rare occurrence, despite the restaurant being attached to a pub, but it was one that was right up William’s alley. He’d grown up in and around bars of far less repute than Pat’s.
He’d moved closer without thought and got there in time to stop a single blow from landing, leading the duo outside to a smattering of applause from the watchful blue hairs in the crowd.
William always did have a way with the ladies.
Part of him was disappointed he’d managed to avoid a scrap. He was restless, impatient, and sick of waiting for his time here to wind down.
It wasn’t that he was miserable in Baltimore. He had a flexible job that had him filling in wherever he was needed, so he rarely grew bored. He’d managed to befriend Murphy, the owner of the local boxing club, who’d given him a place to blow off steam and swap stories. Between that and The Collins’ easy acceptance, he’d lucked into something good here, he knew. But it wasn’t home, and he wasn’t any closer to winning over his wife, so a good brawl with the gobshite would have done wonders for taking the edge off.
Reining himself in the way he had to since he’d come to America wasn’t something he was used to, but for the most part it had been worth it.
Even if the cousins initially looked on him with suspicion, they’d accepted his brother and sister readily enough. Given them a roof and the benefit of the doubt.
And he’d been growing on them as well, he knew, though marrying Bronte had lost him some ground in that regard. In their minds, he was the git who’d taken advantage of Hugo Wayne’s sister to gain his green card.
He’d gotten a black eye from his bride and been shuttled off by his family for his trouble.
At first, he’d resented the hell out of their interference, but in retrospect he couldn’t blame them. He was all too aware he wasn’t good enough for the likes of Bronte Wayne. Not yet.
His family would never believe him, but he hadn’t planned to whisk her off like that. Not that their future wasn’t set in his mind from the instant he’d seen her, because it was. But as luck would have it, she’d been the one to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
I’m his wife.
Bronte thought she was putting on a show for their audience. Saving him from an awkward situation. He was all for playing her damsel in distress if this was the end result.
Who knew being claimed by a woman would make him this hard?
“Mrs. Finn,” he murmured, enjoying her surprise when he pulled her flush against him. Her breasts pressed into his stomach and he slid one hand down to the sweet curve of her hip, knowing he was taking advantage of the situation, but needing to touch her just the same. “I’ve been thinking about you since I rolled out of bed this morning.”
“Wh—you have?”
He nodded, enjoying her confusion. “You woke up missing me too, didn’t you? It feels like it’s been months since I’ve had you in my arms. I think we should fix that right away, don’t you, darlin’?”
He didn’t give her another chance to respond, skimming his mouth lightly over hers. Her lips parted on a gasp and he accepted the unconscious invitation, instantly deepening the kiss. Hazelnut and Bronte. He groaned, tugging at her jaw and angling his mouth to take more.
How the hell had he walked away from this?
Leaving her that last day after coming so close to having her should have nominated him for sainthood. She’d been willing and so responsive, but he’d known as soon as the fog lifted she’d come out swinging harder than before.
She hadn’t been ready, so he’d done what she wanted, what everyone wanted, and walked away. He’d given her time to get used to the idea of them being together. To come to terms with the fact that he meant them both to keep their vows.
He wasn’t sure he had the strength of will to let her go again.