Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
That's exactly what he did half an hour ago. He didn't even give me time to say anything. As soon as I answered the door, he grabbed me, tossed me over his shoulder, and stomped over here with me.
And then he deposited me in his bed, kissed me stupid, growled that he’d be right back, and disappeared again.
His dimples pop out as he prowls across the room toward me. “Crazy men better not be putting their fucking hands on you if they want to keep them, Sunshine,” he says.
I roll my eyes at him, not dignifying his caveman ways with a response.
“Skeet is in the guest room.”
So that’s where he went.
“I told you that I wasn’t staying with you tonight, Alessandro.”
“We both know you’re right where you want to be, angel. You’re just too goddamn stubborn to admit it.”
“Am not,” I mutter.
“So admit it then,” he challenges me, dragging his T-shirt off over his head. “Say, ‘Alessandro, I want to sleep in your bed with you.’”
I do want to sleep in his bed with him. I’ve thought about nothing else all day. After Charlie dragged me to the kitchen in the bakery today, she basically forced me to admit that I have feelings for him and then reminded me that there’s nothing wrong with that. She also told me that love can be terrifying, but if you spend all your time afraid of it, you miss the really great parts.
I don’t know when my little sister got so smart, but she’s right, darn it. I don’t want to spend my whole life so afraid that I miss the best parts of it. I think Alessandro may be one of those parts. But admitting to him that my own parents didn’t even want me feels a little bit like ripping open a wound that never really healed. I don’t know how to be vulnerable. I’ve never let myself do that.
And he makes me want to be able to be that person so freaking badly I can taste it. But taking that leap is, literally, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.
I think I have to do it, though.
“You’re thinking awful hard, Sunshine,” he says. “It’s one little sentence.”
“Maybe for you,” I mumble, staring down at the gray comforter. “For me, it feels like giving you my freaking soul, Alessandro.”
“You afraid I’ll sell it to the devil?” he teases. The bed dips as he sits beside me, his heat searing into me.
“No.” I swallow hard. “I’m afraid you’ll give it back.”
“Heidi, angel.” He reaches for me, his hand curving around my jaw, demanding I look at him. His warm brown eyes bore into me. “Talk to me, Sunshine.”
“My parents abandoned us when we were little girls,” I blurt. “Um, they neglected us a lot and lost custody of us a few times. We spent a lot of time in foster care. One day, they just left and never came back. We were there by ourselves for a week before we ran out of food.”
“Jesus,” he breathes, something dark flaring in his expression. His jaw pulses. “How old were you?”
“Five.”
“Your sisters?”
“Gemma was two. Charlie was three. Um, Adalynn had just turned seven. Leia was six.” I exhale a shaking breath.
“I’m so fucking sorry, angel.”
“We spent a lot of time separated in foster care until Adalynn’s foster parents found out that she had four sisters,” I whisper. “They pulled strings and got us all placed with them. As soon as they were able, they adopted all of us.”
“Garrett’s parents?”
I nod, my eyes watery. “They’re our parents in every way that matters. They’ve been good to us—really good, Alessandro. But we all struggle in our own ways with what we went through. Um, I guess I’ve always been afraid to let people get too close because of it.”
He’s quiet for a minute. “If your own parents didn’t want you, why would anyone else, is that it, Sunshine?”
I bob my head, my throat tight.
“Look at me, Heidi.”
I resist the command, not sure I’m ready to face him yet. But he’s determined to make me see him, to make me face him. He turns my face, his hand gentle but firm, until my eyes meet his.
“Your biological parents didn’t deserve you,” he says, his voice low and heated. “You were a miracle then, and you’re just as much a miracle now. Anyone lucky enough to spend five minutes standing in front of you knows that much, baby. God knows I do.”
“Alessandro,” I whisper.
“I want you because you’re perfect in every way,” he says, his tone vibrating with a quiet intensity that steals my breath. “I want you because I spend every waking minute thinking about you—about your smile, about those dimples, about the sassy things you say, and how I can make your life even one iota better. How you make my life better just by being in it. I want you because the thought of not having you is, literally, the worst fucking thing I can imagine, Sunshine.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you. Every perfect inch of you. And there isn’t a chance in hell that I’m giving even a tiny piece of you back.”