Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Colt chuckled at something and picked a book from the shelf. “This fuckin’ guy—you know who he is?”
I frowned at the cover. It was a book about general Air Force history, not a specific craft or anything. “You mean the author? No. I mean, I read the book—it’s good. I use it as a source sometimes.” I liked adding info about the planes I worked on when I blogged the finished result.
“Arrogant son of a bitch,” he said wryly and returned the book.
“I guess it takes one to know one.” The words left me before I could think twice, and I felt the embarrassment prickling my skin.
Colt turned to me, a slow smirk taking over.
Oh my God, I had truly done it again. I looked away and stuttered an apology. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did.” The bastard was coming closer. Too close. He stopped right in front of me and lifted my chin like he had before. As if on cue, I broke out in a cold sweat. My pulse went through the roof. I didn’t fear what he’d do; it was what he’d say. He could be disappointed or he could call me rude, or, or, or he’d simply leave and never look my way again, and he’d take Lucas with him.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
He was studying me intently. “I don’t want you to be afraid.”
“I’m not—”
All he had to do to silence me was cock a brow. “Don’t lie to me.”
Fuck. Shit. I swallowed hard.
A tightness around his eyes faded. “I think I need to get to know you. Draw the brat out properly.”
Hope exploded in my chest, mingling with the fright.
He dipped down a couple inches, and his mouth twisted up a fraction. “I’m definitely an arrogant son of a bitch, for the record. But the next time you call me that, you’ll also call me Sir for the right reason. Are we clear?”
Not at all. “I-I understand.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’re fun. I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ more of you.”
Holy shit. He had to notice how unsteady my breathing was becoming. It was too much. Too overwhelming. Someone wanted to get to know me, see more of me. Me.
“Did you go through a lot of trouble to find Luke and me that house?” he asked. “Be honest.”
The topic change threw me for a second. I shook my head. “No, Sir.”
“Good. We won’t be needing it.” He took a step back and scrubbed a hand over his jaw and mouth. My forehead creased. Was something wrong with the house? “I have something else in mind.” He smiled a bit and squeezed my shoulder quickly. “You got any plans this weekend?”
Nope, no plans, my schedule was wide open. “No.”
Spend time with me, please.
“You do now.” He nodded at the door and started to leave the room. “I’m gonna talk shit over with Luke, but you’ll hear from us by Friday at the latest.”
I followed him down the stairs, dazed and confused, but already excited to tell Vincent that I had weekend plans. Holy fuck. Weekend plans!
Four
“So you’re waiting for them to call today?” Abel asked.
I shook my head. I’d abandoned the project I was working on five minutes into my FaceTime call with Abel. Now I just sat there and stared at the screen. “They called yesterday—or Lucas called, but I heard Colt in the background.” Colt was a special guy. He’d hollered a lot. We’ll be there at 1200 hours sharp, he’d yelled to Lucas, who’d sighed in that way—the “I love you, but you drive me nuts sometimes” way.
I snickered my way through the story, and Abel laughed when I explained how Lucas humored Colt with his “Yes, dear” deadpan.
“They seem to have the funniest dynamic,” I said with a grin.
Abel smiled and shook his head. “You’re finally gonna get laid, buddy. With two guys. I’m so proud.”
I stuttered a laugh and widened my eyes. “Don’t be crazy. I’m barely bold enough to hope for friendship.”
“Bitch, please!” He leaned forward in his seat and twisted his cap backward, something he did when he wanted to “give me the business.” It was just cute. “Let me ask you this—what’re you gonna do? What’s the plan?”
“Movie marathon,” I replied. “I was told that I’m under no circumstances allowed to prepare anything. Food or otherwise.” It had rattled Rosa almost as much as it had me. I was raised to make sure there was something to eat if I had guests. “They’re bringing everything.”
Abel was smug about something. “See? They’re testing the waters by giving you a rule to follow. And movie marathon? Come on. That’s such a Daddy/Little thing.”
“Because we are!” I laughed, half frustrated. “You’re reaching, Abel. You of all people should know that Daddy Doms and Littles are into that type of stuff even outside kink—and definitely outside of labels.”