Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Beau nudges my knee with his nose, tail wagging. I scratch behind his ear and whisper, “I guess I’m staying, buddy. For now.”
He makes a soft, high sound in response, then lumbers over to the door.
I stare at it for a full ten seconds before I move. The house feels impossibly big, every creak and whisper of wood unfamiliar enough to remind me I don’t belong. But then I think of Nash’s steady hands and calm voice and of the way I hadn’t wanted to pull away. I pad barefoot down the hall and stop in front of his door. My pulse stutters. What the hell am I even doing?
Before I lose my nerve, I lift my hand and knock.
The door opens almost immediately. Nash fills the frame, bare-chested, worn flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips, his hair damp and messy, maybe from a rough towel-dry. His eyes flick over me once, slowly, darkening as they take in the thin cotton of my tank and the bare stretch of my legs.
“Grace,” he says, voice low and rough.
I swallow hard. “I, um... I needed to tell you. I’m staying. I called the office. Changed my flight.”
His face softens, breaking into the wide smile he seems to reserve for the animals and kids in this place. He caught the sun today, and more freckles dusk his nose and cheeks like glitter. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I bought myself some time, you know, to do justice to the article.”
His hand reaches out for mine, strong fingers curling around my wrist, thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point, easing me toward him slowly like he’s giving me time to object. “Justice to the article?” He pushes the door shut behind me, smiling like he knows exactly what I mean.
His eyes hold mine, soft and warm like he sees every lie I tell myself, every secret hope and need I press close to my chest like playing cards. His focus is singular and intense, like I’m the only thing he wants to look at for the rest of his life.
My breath catches as he pulls me gently closer, our bodies almost touching. His voice drops into a soft rumble.
“Let me show you what it could be like if you stayed for good.”
I barely nod before his mouth is on mine, hungry and certain. The kiss steals the air from my lungs. There’s nothing soft about it now; this is need, pure and raw. His hands slide up my sides under the loose fabric of my cami, fingers skimming my ribcage, and the gasp that escapes me is shocked and desperate sounding.
Nash pulls back, giving him enough space to look me in the eye. His pupils are blown dark, his breath uneven. “This what you want?” he rasps.
“Yeah.”
He groans softly, dipping his head back down, and claims my mouth again. His thumbs stroke lazy circles over my skin as the kiss deepens. I arch into him as he pushes the hem of my cami up higher. His mouth leaves a hot trail from the corner of my jaw to my collarbone, and I shiver under the heat of him, the anticipation curling low in my stomach.
His voice roughens. “I’ve thought about this every damn night since you showed up.”
I don’t have the breath to answer, especially when he drags his fingers down my spine, and his lips brush over the curve of my breast. I tangle my hands in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
A sharp knock at the door makes us both jump like we’ve been caught with our hands in the cookie jar. We freeze, breathing hard, hearts racing. Nash curses under his breath and leans his forehead against my shoulder.
The knock comes again. This time a voice, low and unbothered, asks, “Nash? You decent?”
Cody.
I stifle a half-laugh, half-groan, burying my burning face in Nash’s neck. He stiffens but doesn’t step away.
“Give me a sec,” Nash calls, reluctantly pulling back and brushing his lips over my temple in apology. I scramble for my composure, tugging my cami back down and trying to slow my ragged breathing. Nash runs a hand through his hair and strides to the door, yanking it open to reveal Cody’s easy grin.
Cody’s eyes flick from Nash’s bare chest to my flushed face, visible over Nash’s shoulder. One brow lifts, slow and knowing.
“I was coming to remind you about the irrigation check in the south pasture first thing,” Cody says casually. His gaze lingers. “But I guess you’re… preoccupied.”
Nash growls low under his breath. “You could’ve messaged.”
Cody shrugs with infuriating calm. “Could’ve. Didn’t.”
Then, with that same wicked glint I’ve come to associate with him, Cody tilts his head and smiles right at me. “If you two are busy, I’ll let you get back to it. Unless… you want company?”
I blink. My brain short-circuits. My mouth opens, then closes again. Heat floods my cheeks and other places that came alive for the first time when Allie opened up to me about her poly relationship.