Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Of course, it’s a yes.”
Something bumped Tallulah’s knee and she looked down to find Burgess had opened the glove compartment. He lifted the manual, shifted some paperwork aside, and found a small pack of tissues, taking one out and handing it to her.
“Thanks,” Tallulah sniffed.
He frowned at her, but it wasn’t an irritable one; it was more helpless than anything.
“I’m fine,” she mouthed at him.
A grunt was his response, surprising no one.
A lightbulb went off above Tallulah’s head and a weird lightness invaded all four of her limbs. “Wait, are you calling Burgess, too, because . . .”
“Yeah, hey.” Wells coughed into a fist, looking distinctly uncomfortable, but he also seemed grateful for the circles Josephine started rubbing into his back. “Do you want to be my best man, B?”
It was a true pleasure to watch the hulking hockey player do a double take. “Me?”
“Please don’t make me repeat myself.”
Silence landed like a splat.
Josephine raised her eyebrows at Tallulah.
“Uh . . .” She hurried to fill the void left by Burgess’s stunned reaction. “Wait! You didn’t even tell us which venue you landed on.”
Wells executed a finger drum roll on his fiancée’s knee. “Costa Rica. This December.”
“December? That’s . . . just over two months away. Josephine!” Tallulah bounced in her seat. “I’m screaming!”
“Pack your bathing suit,” Josephine sang. “Especially if you still have that baby blue one from college, because that’s one of our wedding colors.”
“I do! I still have it! Might be a little tight, but—”
“I’ll do it,” Burgess said, abruptly. “I’ll be the best man.”
“The timing of that agreement was a little transparent, man,” Wells said, dryly. “But I have no choice but to take it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Burgess said, crossing his arms.
This fucking guy, Wells mouthed to Josephine.
“We’ll let you guys get back to . . . whatever you were doing when we interrupted.” Josephine’s grin broadened. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to pop the question.”
“I’m so excited for you guys! I can’t wait!”
“Me either,” Wells muttered, planting slow kisses on Josephine’s neck that were quickly turning the phone call un–family friendly. Not to mention Josephine’s eyes were beginning to grow suspiciously glassy. “All I want is to call you my wife . . .” came the golfer’s muffled voice.
“Okay, talk tomorrow!” Tallulah said quickly, severing the connection. “Wow. Costa Rica. Wedding colors. Venues. It’s like . . . on.”
“Yeah.”
Tallulah and Burgess looked at each other so long, the air started to crackle. It was clear from Burgess’s tight expression that he remembered exactly what was on the verge of happening when those phone calls came through. And he wanted to get back to it.
But while Tallulah could still feel the deep pull of need in her lower body, the reckless impulse to venture into muddied waters with her boss, the conversation with Wells and Josephine had only served as a reminder of what she didn’t want. At least, for herself.
To be tied down.
And this man who waited up to make sure she got home safe, this single dad, this old-fashioned man . . . he was the commitment type. No question about it.
“I’m going to head up. I rescheduled some of my weekday classes for Saturday ones, so I can be free for Lissa during the week. They’re kicking off tomorrow afternoon.”
“Right.”
They exited the car, entered the building, and rode the elevator in silence that screamed with electricity. Tomorrow, when she was fully sober, she wouldn’t ache with the need to abandon her caution with Burgess. She’d have herself under control and her priorities in line.
But when she turned at her bedroom door and found him watching with hooded hunger from the living room, she wondered if she’d overestimated her willpower.
With a burst of determination, Tallulah closed herself in the bedroom.
And slowly engaged the lock.
Chapter Eleven
Burgess gritted his teeth and growled his way through the final three squats in his set before settling the weighted-down metal bar into its cradle. After getting Lissa off to school this morning, he’d had an early press panel and a lunch meeting with the team owners, followed by a three-hour practice. No one would have looked at Burgess sideways if he’d decided to skip weightlifting, but he’d never cut corners before and he wasn’t going to start now, even if his body was demanding he do just that.
He slapped a hand onto the white cinder block wall and twisted, trying to alleviate the severe throb in his lower back by stretching. Didn’t help. One more set and he’d let himself go home. It wasn’t the grueling workout he used to put himself through, but he’d done enough to maintain his strength.
Maintain?
Since when was that enough?
A memory from a week and a half earlier drifted to the forefront of his mind. Tallulah in the passenger side of his SUV feeling his bicep with a look of astonishment on her incredible face. Although in his version, she dragged her hand downward, giving his thighs the same thorough treatment, gasping over the hard ridges and sinew, teasing him before eventually stroking her palm into his lap and feeling how thick he was there. For her.