Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
I leave the truck parked and together we walk hand in hand down the sidewalk, dry leaves crunching under our shoes. When I open the door of the local arcade, the bell dings and I gesture toward the pinball machines. “Loser buys dinner.”
For the next two hours we play, and I finally realize just how competitive my girl is. She doesn’t just love winning. She loves the challenge, the thrill of the chase. The knowledge makes me smile.
She doesn’t pretend she needs me to show her the shooting game and she kicks my ass soundly at air hockey. She’s a woman who can hold her own and it only makes me admire her more. She’s strong and determined and fierce. But she’s also quiet and sensitive, a dreamer who feels everything deeply.
After our games, I buy her dinner at the drive-in. We listen to the radio and discuss our favorite movies while we eat.
I wait until I’m certain she’s feeling better. I didn’t realize that underneath that sunshine smile she was carrying so much pain. I feel lucky that I got a peek into her heart and I always want to guard her. I want to be the man she reaches for when she’s having a bad day.
I drive her back to the lodge after dinner, and we’re in the lobby when she turns. She bumps into my stomach because I was walking so closely behind her. I suck in my stomach and grip her elbow to steady her.
“I forgot my bag,” she murmurs.
“Wait here. Wouldn’t want you to get eaten by a black bear,” I tease before disappearing to the truck. It only takes me a second to return with her bag. I dangle it just out of reach. “Watch a movie with me tonight.”
Yeah, I’d like more than a movie. But there’s something about being with Piper. Her presence makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery and I’m eager to bask in it. Call me a selfish bastard but I want every moment of her time and all of her attention.
“Gray, is that you?” A feminine voice calls from the kitchen. It’s probably Iris. She’s been my best friend since we were kids. Last year, she found the love of her life and married him. But she still works at my lodge doing whatever I need. Her true passion is photography, and she takes almost all of the wedding pictures here.
Piper uses the moment of distraction to grab her purse. She smiles up at me, regret clear in her eyes. “I should go.”
Before I can answer, she floats toward the stairs.
I stand rooted to the spot, staring after her like a fool. I don’t even realize I’m grinning until Iris comes into the room and I have to school my features.
“She’s leaving, Gray.” Though her words are a warning, her voice is soft.
“I know.” My tone is casual despite the fact that her warning makes my chest feel tight. She’s just another tourist.
She presses her lips together, her cherry red gloss brighter than usual tonight. “The same way you knew Jane was going to marry someone else?”
I scowl at her. I’m over Jane. But for a moment, I remember that big elaborate grand gesture. The roses. The soft piano music. The diamond I offered. Only to have her laugh in my face.
Apparently, I’m not the right kind of money. I don’t have connections and a vacation home in Martha’s Vineyard. I don’t own a yacht or have an investment portfolio that’s staggering. I’ll never make the mistake of doing something like that again. I’ll never be foolish enough to think that love is enough. “It doesn’t matter. I’m immune to love now.”
5
PIPER
I know what Gray was really asking me. He may have said movie but there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze. He wanted a lot more than two hours staring at a screen together. But I’m not ready. Not yet.
I try to call Zoey, but she doesn’t pick up. Without a friend to talk to, I grab my laptop and open my latest book. I re-read the last scene I wrote before I remember what I’m supposed to be working on. The love scenes.
Normally, they take me forever to write. After all, it’s not easy to co-ordinate the delicate dance between what a couple is experiencing physically and emotionally, to explain that soul connection to the reader.
But tonight, the scene pours from me. Word after word comes effortlessly from my fingertips. Alright, so maybe I’m imagining Gray as I write about the hero bending the heroine across the kitchen island and taking her from behind. Maybe I moan too when I imagine feeling his big, thick cock brushing against my swollen folds.
By the time I’m done writing the scene, I’m dripping. I’m aching for a big, burly mountain man with a gruff voice. I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I take care of this, so I run a hot shower and grab my vibrator.