Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I smile at her. “I know! Plus, I need to see the boys—I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“We’ll make a date.”
“Gorgeous, dance with me.” Wesley cuts into the conversation and stands suddenly. I tip my head back to look at him and instantly register the look on his face.
“We’ll be back.” I smile at everyone at the table as he pulls out my chair, then let him lead me out to the dance floor. I smile at the other couples, then rest both my hands against his chest and look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides Edward looking at your tits every five seconds, that chick tried to feel me up under the table.”
“What?” I shout, stopping in place. Looking around his shoulder and back toward the table, I narrow my eyes at Bonnie when our gaze locks.
Forcing me to move along with him, he holds me tighter. “The first time it happened, I thought it was an accident. Then it happened again.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . I don’t know what that is. Rude just doesn’t cover it.”
I look over at the table again. Both Edward and Bonnie are looking at us, but Tex and Elizabeth are busy making googley-eyes at each other. Glaring at Bonnie, I see her frown before Wesley forces me to look at him.
“I can’t believe that she would hit on you when I’m sitting right there.”
“Don’t think about it.” He wraps his hand around my jaw, then lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, and it does exactly what I need it to—forget about everyone around us. When he pulls his mouth from mine, I smile. “Better?”
“Yes.” I rest my temple to his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”
“This isn’t dancing; this is swaying. The moment they put on dance music, you’ll see my moves.”
“I can’t wait.” I laugh and close my eyes, swaying with him until it’s announced that dinner is being served.
We go back to the table. Thankfully, Bonnie keeps her hands to herself, and the rest of the dinner goes by without incident. After dinner, we spend most of the night on the dance floor, where Wesley proves that he’s not a liar. He can dance—and well.
Getting into the back of the cab a few hours later, I’m all danced out. I can’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a good night, gorgeous?” Wesley asks after shutting the door.
“Yes, and I learned something new about you,” I say as the cab pulls away from the curb and into traffic. “You are really good at dancing. If they ever have a Dancing with the Stars NYPD edition, I think you should try out.”
I yawn, and he laughs and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you tired?”
“Very.” I yawn again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into his side.
Suddenly, the cab is jolted forward, and my body is tossed against the partition that separates us from the driver. My head and knees hit it hard. Wesley’s arm wraps around my waist, but a second impact comes, even worse than the first. He’s unable to keep me in his grasp as the car is jolted again. Glass rains down around us from my window as it shatters. Grabbing my head, I feel wetness on my fingertips.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scan me, and I nod my head.
“I think so. But . . .”
“Fuck.” He looks around, then settles me back against the seat. “Do not move.” He opens his door and gets out. My knees ache and my head is pounding, but with all that, my biggest concern right now is our baby.
Our baby that Wesley doesn’t know about.
“Wesley!” I call his name as he reaches into the backseat for me.
Helping me out, he looks me over once more, then inspects my forehead and the wound that is causing blood to run down my face and onto my chest and dress. Libby is going to kill me.
“Hold on, gorgeous. I want to get you safely across the street. Okay?” I shake my head no. “I promise it will be okay. I know you’re bleeding, but it’s just a small scrape. I promise, it’s small.” He picks me up and moves quickly through the cars that are now piled up in the middle of the road.
“Wesley . . .”
“Here you are.” He heads toward a bench at an empty bus stop, then helps me sit.
From my new vantage point, I can see the full scene of the accident. Two cars hit our cab—one in the back and one on the side. The yellow cab is not just wrecked, it’s totaled.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Just keep pressure on your head,” he says, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.