Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
And fuck, I liked her there.
I wanted to keep her wrapped up and tucked away, her heart drumming against mine. I wanted to stay tangled with her sweet, hot body all goddamn day.
Maybe forever.
Because shit, the girl had blown my mind.
Turned me upside down, inside out. I no longer knew if I was coming or going each time I crawled back between those thighs to take a little more.
But it’d been far more than the physical. The way we’d stripped each other bare in every fuckin’ way.
Hearts and souls and bodies.
The things I’d confessed to her that I’d sworn I’d never give to another person.
She’d held them like she was strong enough to bear the weight.
I’d become certain I was going to bear hers, too.
But I’d felt it—the shift when she’d come to the realization of where she’d woken.
The veil of night no longer obscuring what we’d done or what we’d shared.
I knew the girl had been panicking. Itching to run and hide.
So, I’d taken a chance, and now I was the one kneeling there in front of her adorable daughter, offering her hearts and flowers.
And fuck me, if my heart wasn’t bleeding all over the place.
Panicking.
Feet itching to run while that hidden, ugly place begged to stay. To be good enough to stand in their presence. To take up their side and fight for them. Live for them.
Blasphemy.
Fuck.
What was I thinking?
But I couldn’t shuck the compulsion when Juni’s precious face stretched in this earth-shattering smile, those eyes the same color as her mom’s swimming with awe and joy. “Really? Did you knows I love the pink flowers the most?”
My chest stretched tight. “No, I didn’t, but I do now, so I’ll be sure to remember for next time.”
Felt like an oath sliding off my tongue.
Next time.
“You gots a favorite flower?” she asked, her head angling to the side like the question was of utmost importance to her.
Was Juniper considered a flower?
Yeah.
Was losing my mind.
My cool.
My purpose.
“I think I like these ones right here.” I tapped one of the roses she had held tight against her chest.
She giggled.
My spirit thrashed.
In too deep.
Footsteps shuffled in behind us, and Salem’s grandmother whisked by. “All right then, Juni Bee, why don’t you set the table for our company? Mimi is gonna whip us up some pancakes and eggs.”
Juni’s eyes widened in exuberance. “Just you waits, Motorcycle Man, my mimi makes the best breakfast in ever in ever. Take a seat and I’lls take care of you.”
She grabbed me by the hand and hauled me over to where Gage was sitting on his knees at the table. She patted the chair next to him. “Sits right there.”
Like I could refuse.
Not a chance.
“Right next to me!” Gage shouted. “I’m glad you got here, Uncle. I’ve been missin’ you like forever.”
Yeah, it’d been like yesterday since I’d seen him, but I’d take it.
I leaned in and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “Me, too, Gage in the Cage. Me, too.”
I slid into the spot next to him. Couldn’t stop the grin from splitting my mouth. Not when my gaze caught on Salem where she watched us from the archway.
Thunderbolt eyes the softest they’d ever been.
My chest panged.
Mayhem going down right in the middle of me.
This want unlike anything I’d ever felt. This connection greater—bigger—than anything I’d experienced.
It felt like I got knocked in the face when I realized it was true.
Did she feel it?
Salem inhaled a shaky breath while she stared back at me, like she’d gotten swept up by the awareness, too.
Then she straightened and walked the rest of the way into the kitchen. She sidled up to her grandmother and set to work.
“Anything I can do to help?” I asked.
Salem’s grandmother waved me off. “You just sit there and look pretty. Coffee will be ready in a minute.”
My eyebrow quirked.
Pretty?
Salem hid her smile as she pulled out a bowl and measuring cups, and she peeked at me every few seconds as she started to measure and pour in the ingredients.
When the coffee maker beeped, Salem grabbed a mug, filled it, and picked up the carton of creamer and dumped a small splash in the way I always did at the shop.
And shit, yeah, I liked that, too. Liked that she’d been paying attention. Learning me the way I’d been learning her.
She carried it over to me, her breath turning shallow as she rounded the corner. As that need amplified with each step that brought us closer.
“There you go.” Her voice was doing that wispy, throaty thing.
Sexy as fuck.
Sweet, too.
Accepting the mug, I let my fingertips brush over hers.
Warmth raced. Her confusion. Her want.
This thing that I was so over pretending didn’t exist.
“Thank you, darlin’.”
“I think that’s the way you take it?” she asked, almost hopefully.
“Couldn’t ask for anything better.” Let the innuendo slide out with that.