Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
He smiles into the pillow. “Green,” he mumbles. “Matches your eyes.”
I watch him sleep. I promise myself if there’s another call—one more, just one—I’ll tell him. I’ll put the whole stupid mess on the table and let him help me.
I fall asleep to the sound of his breath, steady, indifferent to ghosts. My last thought before the dark takes me is an old one, from rehab, from the porch with Crunch, from Doc Kelly’s waiting room and Head Case’s breathing exercises:
You’re allowed to choose when to fight. You’re allowed to choose how.
Tomorrow I’ll choose again.
Tonight I choose this.
The bed. The man. The quiet that belongs to me.
Seven
Tommy Boy
I’ve been down a lot of roads in my life. Some I’ve taken because the club says so, some because I’m chasing the next high of the throttle, and others because I need to run from the shit in your own head.
But this one? This ride north into Virginia?
This one’s for her. For me.
For us.
The sun’s still shaking off the morning when I roll the bike out. Jami’s got her helmet under one arm, hair braided down her back, that little grin on her lips like she knows I’m up to something. She doesn’t press me, though. That’s one of the things I love about her—she lets me play my games until I’m ready to show my hand.
“Got the bags loaded?” she asks, sliding on her sunglasses.
“Course I do.” I slap the saddlebag. “You think I’d forget the good stuff?”
She smirks. “You mean bacon?”
“Damn right.”
She laughs and climbs on behind me, arms wrapping tight around my waist, cheek settling against my back. That’s home right here. Doesn’t matter where the wheels go, when she’s at my back, I’m good.
The road stretches out a black ribbon slicing through fields and woods down the country roads, the air warm and easy. She relaxes against me, body moving with mine, and I swear the world could fall apart around us and I’d still be alright as long as her arms stayed where they are.
I take the long way, because I want her to have the full ride. Wind, curves, the blur of green blending to blues as we go north and inland where she can see mountains rising in the distance.
Every mile, my chest gets tighter. The ring sits in my cut pocket on the inside, heavy as a brick. Jenni helped me pick it out, and I haven’t gotten this off my mind since. I’m not nervous about her answer—I know. I’ve known since the night I carried her bleeding and broken and she whispered she had her power back.
I’m nervous about deserving it.
What makes a man like me land a woman who can walk through fire and still stand like her? What have I ever done in my life to deserve such strength to carry with me into the days I get old and gray? Nothing.
I damn sure don’t deserve the beauty she is. However, she chooses me over and over. I’m not strong enough to let that go. She’s my addiction.
But that’s a battle for another time. Right now, I’ve got a plan, and it’s going to be perfect.
The cabin is tucked back in the Blue Ridge, a little two-story with a deck that looks out over miles of green. There’s a hot tub on the porch, logs stacked by the fireplace, and a fridge I had a prospect stock yesterday because well, bacon. It doesn’t travel that well on a motorcycle and my girl loves her bacon, as do I. Over time, it’s become our joke, and that makes me love the pork treat even more.
Jami walks through the door, wide-eyed. “Tommy…”
“You like it?”
She turns in a slow circle, taking it all in—the wood beams, the windows that frame the trees, the quiet that hums like a secret. “I love it.”
Relief hits me hard. “Good. It’s ours for the weekend.”
She turns, smiling at me, and for a second I almost ruin the surprise by blurting it all out right there.
Forever. Say yes. Be mine in every way. But I bite it back. Timing matters.
I drop the bags and pull her against me. “Now, how about we start this thing right?”
Her grin says she knows exactly what I mean.
The hot tub steams as the sun drops low. She leans back against me, head on my shoulder, legs stretched across mine. The water makes her skin slick, glowing in the last of the light, and I can’t stop touching her—hand drifting over her thigh, arm tight around her waist, mouth brushing her temple.
“Best idea you’ve ever had,” she murmurs, eyes closed.
“Thought you might like it.”
“Like it? I’m never leaving.”
“Fine by me,” I say, pressing a kiss to her wet hair.
We sit in silence, the kind that doesn’t need filling. Just the sound of water bubbling and the forest around us, alive with crickets and night birds. My heart pounds steady, the ring box tucked away in the other room. Not yet. Not like this.