Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
The whole-house generator had been ordered, and Steve was due to start the demo on the master bathroom next week.
I was finally going to have a bench in my shower so I could shave my legs without twisting myself into knots like the newest cast member of Cirque du Soliel. A bench where Jackson could sit while I straddled his lap—
Speak of the devil, why was Jackson’s Land Cruiser pulling in his driveway?
We stood on the deck as he parked in the garage.
“Hey, stranger,” I called out as he appeared, swinging a little paper bag.
He startled. “What are you doing up there?”
Sam leaned on the railing. “We’ve just been sitting here all day in the hopes that you’d pull up—and look! Here you are!”
My shoulders shook with laughter as he crossed our yard, but it died when he looked up at me and climbed the stairs.
He looked drained and tense. His cheeks were rough with a shift’s worth of stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot. Something was off.
“Are you okay?” I asked as he made it to the top.
“Yeah. No. I’m not sure. Can I have a second with you?” He held out his hand for mine.
I laced our fingers and nodded, then took him inside.
“I’ll give you guys some time,” Sam said, picking up on the vibe. She disappeared upstairs, and I led Jackson to the kitchen, where I sat him down on one of the new barstools that matched my white and gray theme.
He put the bag on the counter, where it promptly fell over, but he didn’t right it. He was too busy watching me like I was the one acting odd around here.
I grabbed him a bottle of water from my refrigerator, then unscrewed the top and put it in front of him.
“Thank you.”
“You look…”
“Like shit?” he suggested with a smirk.
“It’s impossible for you to look like shit. But you do need a nap. Why didn’t you go to sleep when you got off this morning?” Where the hell had he been all this time?
“I needed to grab something I’d ordered last week, and then I just kind of drove.” He picked up the bottle and downed half of it.
“Did something happen? Could you not sleep?” Oh God, was Claire threatening a custody suit again? I stepped between his outstretched thighs and braced my hands on his shoulders. “Tell me what has you worried.”
He studied me like he’d never seen me before. “You’re beautiful.” He threaded his hand through my hair and palmed my waist with the other, then pulled me closer. “Kiss me, Kitty.”
Now that was something I could do.
I fit my mouth to his like so many times before and kissed him slow and deep, winding my arms around his neck. The world and its problems faded into the hazy background, leaving only Jackson and the way he made me feel. He changed the tempo with deft flicks of his tongue, and the kiss turned hungry and urgent…desperate, even. By the time we broke apart, our breaths were ragged. My pulse raced, and my lips felt swollen.
Never in my life had I been with a man who could erase the world in a single kiss the way he could. The power Jackson held over me was terrifying, but I knew he’d never use it against me. He loved me.
And I…I adored him. I was addicted to him. My heart leaped for him, and my soul felt whole when I was in his arms. Need, infatuation, connection…those were all things I felt for him, but loving him? That was an emotion—a power—I wasn’t sure I was capable of giving anyone else again. Love was a gift. I knew that. I felt it every time Jackson gave me those words. But loving someone also gave them the power to obliterate you.
“I brought you a present,” he said against my neck, pressing his lips to that sensitive spot beneath my ear. The scruff on his face was a delicious contrast to his soft lips.
“Does this present involve getting me naked? Because although I could be absolutely in favor of it, Sam’s upstairs.” I tilted my head to give him better access.
“It’s in the bag.” He lifted his head, and I nearly groaned at the loss. The thing about finally having Jackson was that I never felt entirely satiated. I wanted more and more of him. “Don’t look at me like that, or we’ll be at my place in thirty seconds, and there’s something we have to talk about first.”
I pouted. It was childish, and I didn’t care. “Fine. We talk, then we go to your place.”
“Open your present.” He flashed me a grin that nearly took my panties clean off and pushed the little brown bag my way.
I slid the box from its bag, lifted the lid, and unwrapped the delicate layers of tissue paper. Mercy. This book was incredible. In simple block text, the words Night and Day stood out where they’d been embossed in rich, dark leather. It was cracked and worn in places, and though it had been protected in a clear library jacket, it was easy to see that it had passed through many hands over the course of many years to find its way here.