Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 138522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Her gaze cuts right, her red hair a wild, sexy mess around her shoulders, and damn it, I want all of it splayed out on my stomach right about now. I want to fuck her. I want to kiss her. I want her naked, but not because we’re just sex. Because we’re not. Because I can’t get enough of her, when most women are here and gone, and over, in my mind, before they ever started. I reach up and catch her chin, turning her gaze to mine. “I’m listening,” I press again. Needing to know where her head really is and that’s not something I could do on the tarmac.
“I don’t need to know your secrets,” she whispers, swallowing hard before she firms her voice and adds, “I just need you naked.”
I know people. I read people. I know this woman in ways that defy us just meeting and I want to know more of her. She doesn’t mean those words. She doesn’t even come close to meaning those words. “I want to know yours. Sweetheart. Every last one of them, big and small.”
“No,” she says firmly. “No, I’ve decided—”
“You just want to fuck me?” I challenge.
“Isn’t that what a man who is now in his late thirties and unmarried wants to hear?”
My lips thin. “Not with you, Abbie.”
“Just sex, Gabe.” She grabs my shirt, fingers balling the cotton, her eyes on my chest, and even after all that time at the shelter she smells sweet, soft, tempting. “Just sex,” she repeats, and there’s almost a desperation to her that I understand a bit too well. I was in her state of mind. I was in a time in my life when I was wounded and I felt like everything was spinning around. To a time when “just sex” gave me security. It also walled me off, shut me down, and did so in a way I’m not letting her wall off.
“Not happening, Abbie baby. It’s too late for that.”
She presses against my chest and looks up at me. “Too late for what?”
“Just sex. That ship already sailed.”
“We’ve known each other a day.”
“Your point?” I challenge.
“Gabe—”
I cup her face. “I know you’re scared.”
That sets her off, her eyes flashing with temper. “I’m not scared. You don’t get to make me scared to fit your narrative.”
Every reaction I provoke from this woman tells me a story. This one tells me that her ex was controlling in a way that reaches well beyond his money. “Maybe it’s just me that’s scared.” Her cellphone starts ringing. “That’s probably your mother.” I push off the wall and give her space to take the call.
She checks the number and glances up at me. “It’s her,” she confirms.
“Tell her we’ll go on out to the ranch and check things out. I need to get Dexter.” I leave and she doesn’t stop me, but I don’t expect her to. Not when her mother is going through hell and the bullets seem to be flying.
I round the corner as she says, “Mom. Yes. We’re already in the Hamptons.” I keep walking. If she needs me she’ll get me. I don’t believe there’s any question at this point that I’ll help her.
My walk is short and I enter the desolate front lobby. I find Dexter sitting on the floor in the center of a bunch of empty seats not far from an unmanned counter, with Mia and Grayson kneeling beside him, both holding treats. Such a good serial killer, I think. He lures them in and then goes for the throat, which means I need to act fast. Grayson and Mia are too good to die this easy.
I hurry forward to claim the beast before he misbehaves. “Thanks for the ride and pet sit,” I say “I need to get the pooch to my place.” Grayson stands, helping Mia to her feet, and handing me the leash. “Can we go out to the ranch and make sure we’re ready for the animals?” I ask.
“I’d like to go too,” Mia says, as Dexter paws at me and I obediently pat his head. “I’m also starving.”
Grayson pulls her around the dog and under his arm. “I’ll feed her and we’ll meet you out there in forty-five minutes. I’ll text you the address.”
“Works for me,” I say. “I’m sure it will for Abbie. She’s talking to her mother now and I don’t need the address. I picked up the location while we were at the shelter. I know the Ellisons.”
When we would part ways, Grayson stands his ground. “You hear we’re working on an NFL deal?”
“Holy shit, man,” I say. “Of course, I heard. How can I not hear about something that big? I mean, who buys into an NFL team?”
“It’s not done yet. I never count my chickens until they’re hatched. My pops taught me that. Eric’s looking for a new player to help it close. You and Reid interested?”