Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I flush hot and he touches my cheek as a smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “You can’t hide from me,” he whispers. “I know you, Goldilocks. I know what you want, what you need, and I want to give you everything if you’ll let me.”
“I know,” I tell him, closer than I’ve ever been to giving in. “I know.”
--
Evan teaches me to cook delicious goulash—he was lying about ramen being his only culinary delight!
“Who taught you this recipe?” I ask as he pours the beef stock over the seasoned meat and vegetables and stirs. “My mom, and she learned from her mom.”
“So it’s a family tradition.”
“For sure. It’s the spices and the slow cooking that make all the difference.”
I stand over the pan, inhaling the rich aroma. My stomach growls with hunger and Evan wraps his arms around my middle from behind, kissing my neck.
“This is going to take two hours. I don’t think you can wait then!”
“Maybe I could eat some bread and butter,” I say, eyeing the freshly made loaf that rests on the counter. As well as delicious stews, Evan is also a skilled baker. He checks so many boxes.
“You can have anything you want.” His hand smooths over my belly and a little higher until it rests beneath my breasts. It feels like an eon since he was inside me, and at moments like this, I forget why I’m not dragging him up to one of the gazillion bedrooms upstairs.
“Evan,” I warn, clamping my thighs around my aching pussy.
“You smell better than goulash,” he says, inhaling against my neck as his thumb brushes over my nipple.
He’s braver than either of his brothers, but he doesn’t ever go further than a tease, offering me nuggets of temptation that burn within me for hours after.
Robert is quiet but attentive, always the more observant and pensive of the brothers. He escorts me to my bedroom at night and lingers for conversation before saying goodnight. I can’t help watching him as he walks away, remembering the night we were together and how it felt to be wrapped in his arms.
They don’t ask me how I’m feeling, and they don’t pressure me to make this anything more than it is, and I become restless.
At night, I lie beneath my feather-down quilt and recall the room downstairs. I remember the fantasies that I used to have and exactly how the sex with Robert and Evan felt. It’s all I can do to keep my hands out of my panties. That would be like a cheap imitation of what it’s possible to feel, and I don’t want that. Not anymore.
Days pass, and the wolves don’t appear. The men who’ve become my sun and my moon relax a little more with every wolf-free day.
Robert and Hunter even decide to buy lumber from the Fenrir brothers and fix up the outbuilding until it’s ready for the arrival of my kinky stock. When it’s done, I stand surrounded by the business they’ve helped me start feeling more blessed than I ever have before, and with every sunrise and sunset, I fall a little deeper in love.
My mind becomes tangled with Hunter’s smile, Evan’s dimples, and Robert’s furrowed brow. Their hands and arms and shoulders blur. They become one man in my mind—one beautiful and complex man with three minds and three hearts.
And I’m filled with questions. Do they want to claim me all at once? Or will we lie together separately? When the time comes, how will they choose who'll impregnate me?
None of this matters in my decision as to whether I’m going to stay.
I already know.
I just don’t know how to tell them.
34
GOLDIE
Today’s the day I have to tell them. At least, that’s what I convince myself in the shower. It’s a gorgeous, cloudless day, and the view from my window takes my breath away. The trees are halfway to losing their leaves, and the colors are so vibrant. The breeze moves them gently, and it reminds me of how gently my heart has been moved.
I need to tell them how I feel because they’re waiting for me. They’ve respected my request for time, and now I have too much of it.
For a moment, as I’m applying my makeup, I wonder if it was their intention to make me so hungry for them that they turn the tables.
The prey becomes the hunter.
I’m not a hunter, though. Not really.
I’m ready to submit to this life on my own terms.
There are parts of my life that I won’t leave behind: my family and my business. They’ve all taken a backseat while I’ve lived with the Bjorns, though it can’t remain this way. What’s between us can’t swamp me.
There are also parts of their life that I want them to leave behind. I can’t go through my life worrying that my men, the fathers of my children, could die because of an ancient hopefully dead vendetta. I don’t know how long it will take for all of us to feel certain that the peace will hold, but it has to. I refuse to birth more boy-bears into a cycle of violence that I have no control over. Surely, they won’t want that for their children, either?