Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
He pushed a button on the machine and then turned with a raised eyebrow. “I’m-such-a-man macho?”
Cheeks warm, Kelsie looked away. He was too damn attractive, and when he got that amused look, it only made him hotter. “Yeah, you know the type. Posters of naked women on the walls, a giant stereo system, and a freezer full of Hot Pockets. The kind of guys who always feel the need to prove their masculinity.”
That had him laughing out loud. “You haven’t snooped in my freezer. It could be overflowing with Hot Pockets.”
“Nah,” she grinned at him, “I’m not worried.”
As he turned back to deal with the coffee, Kelsie took the opportunity to get a better feel for the place. His kitchen had stark white cabinets, white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a large island with a sink and plenty of space to prepare food was situated in the center of the room. Behind her, the kitchen opened to a moderate den. A large-screen television was mounted to the wall directly opposite the kitchen, and a plush black couch faced it. The only thing out of place was an open motorcycle magazine on a wooden coffee table in front of the couch.
Masculine without being macho.
Like Ty.
Not that she knew him well enough to make sweeping statements about his personality, but she knew a bit.
When she turned back, he was holding two coffee mugs. “Grab a seat,” he said, nudging his chin toward the couch.
She frowned. Something in his voice had a twist of unease curling in her stomach. “Okay.” She did as asked, and he handed her a full coffee mug. “Thanks.” He hadn’t bothered to ask how she took it. One glance revealed it was as light as she preferred. She sniffed. Vanilla. Her favorite. She took a tentative sip. No one could call her a coffee snob. She liked it light, sweet, and so vanilla it could be mistaken for ice cream, exactly like the mug in her hands.
How had he known?
“I pay attention,” he answered without her having to voice the question.
“Oh, well, thank you. It’s perfect.”
He chuckled. “It’s disgusting.”
“Let me guess, you drink it black?”
“Sure do. Like an I’m-such-a-man man.”
That had her laughing, and the twinge of discomfort she’d experienced a moment ago fled.
Until he opened his mouth again. “Okay, times up. Start talking.”
Her stomach sank. “W-what do you mean?”
His narrowed eyes screamed don’t play dumb.
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Ever. To anyone.
Ty set his mug on the coffee table—with a Harley coaster, of course—then gave her the full weight of his somber stare.
Oh, how she hated that look. It made her want to tell him. To open up and word vomit everything she’d tucked away into a corner of her brain to fester and rot until it drove her to the brink. Wasn’t that the healthy way to deal with trauma?
“Look, Ty, I’m sorry about what happened this morning, but I don’t need a lecture on how badly things could have gone or how violence isn’t the answer. I don’t need or want you to play the fatherly role and try to get me to open up. I recognize I have more issues than that biker magazine you have there.”
His gaze intensified, which she wouldn’t have thought possible. He reached over and took her coffee mug, placing it on the table beside his. Then he scooted close enough to reach out and grab her chin between his thumb and forefinger, which he did.
Her heart thudded like a wild drum solo.
“First off, I haven’t had a single fucking fatherly thought about you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
What?
“Next,” he continued as though he hadn’t scrambled her brain already. “In the last few weeks, I’ve seen you in the hospital after hurting yourself and in my shop, ready and willing to hurt someone else. I won’t tell you violence is never the answer because I don’t believe that. And trust me, once you’ve told me what that motherfucker did to you, he will know violence. But I don’t give two shits about what happens to him. I care about you. And no matter what you tell yourself, you’re not okay right now, sweetheart. So, you’re gonna open that pretty mouth and start talking because I refuse to let you continue in this not-okay space. You deserve so much more.”
Kelsie sucked in a breath.
His words…
How could she even think of denying his request? No one had ever looked at her like he did at that moment with such intensity and feeling, and was that desire?
Did he want her?
Is that what he meant by not feeling fatherly? Was he attracted to her?
The thought had her lower belly tightening so fast it was nearly painful. Her breasts grew heavy and needy. His hold on her chin wasn’t erotic in any way, and yet the feel of his fingers on her skin had goose bumps breaking out all along her arms. It had been so long since she felt anything but fear and revulsion when it came to men or even a flicker of desire, and it felt amazing.