Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I take a deep breath. The flash fire is here again, and I have a choice. “That is not what I’m trying to do.”
I can push him away. It would be the safest course of action. He’s getting way too in my business, and all this crap about turning the dangerous fire into something that might keep us warm is bullshit. I can do what I’ve been doing and shove this man away as fast as I can. The sex means nothing. The sex is something I can get anywhere.
But the way he held me. Like I’m something precious. Something he truly doesn’t want to let go. The way he smiled after. A pure, joyous smile, like he did something amazing and the amazing thing is me.
I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again. Do I want to throw it away without examining it at all? What if he’s right and there are people who are worth the heartache that inevitably comes?
I know one thing. I want to stop hurting this man. I want to stop reacting to every perceived insult and act like the Harper Ross I want to be, and that is not the woman I’ve been around him to this point. He’s been a place where I could put all my anger, and that stops now.
“I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath and touch him, wanting him to know I mean it. “I’m glad you went to therapy. You might be right about the toxic family bit, but it hurts to hear it.”
His expression softens, and he pulls me into his arms. “I am, too, but I think I need more. So much more because I’m at a loss for what to do with you. I don’t want to hurt you. But I also don’t want to let you go. There’s a lot about my life right now that isn’t settled.”
“Yeah. You either have a fiancée or a stalker.” I turn my chin up with a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a rude way. I don’t know what to call that whole situation.”
His hands smooth back my hair, and he presses a kiss on my forehead, a tender gesture that gets to me in a way all that passion can’t. “I do not have a fiancée, and Britta only stalks me when she needs something. I promise it won’t affect you in any way. She’s back in Europe, and I’m sure she used those pictures she got out of me to prompt whatever wealthy boyfriend she’s after to capitulate to her demands. That’s the only relationship I have with her now. She uses me as a blunt instrument. Nothing else. I haven’t had sex in over eighteen months.”
That surprises me. “Really?”
He nods solemnly. “I kind of swore it off, and not because I was pining for her. Pretty much the opposite. I realized I managed to get myself involved in the same kind of toxicity my father indulged in and decided to take a break. Everything fell apart around the same time, and I kind of pulled into myself. That was when a friend of mine suggested I go to Dr. Warner. He’s helped me see I often take on too much responsibility because I’m still playing out my childhood fears that if I’m not on top of everything, in control of everything, the world will fall apart. That’s what I meant about the martyrdom thing. I should have put it better. He would tell me language is important, and I need to speak one you understand. So let me put it better than I did. You have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it feels like you have to keep it there. But it’s not your responsibility, so what if you just…didn’t.” He kisses me again. “And that’s all I’m going to say because I just figured out how to keep you.”
“What does that mean?” When he kisses me, I can’t think straight.
“It means I’m a ruthless bastard, and I don’t care what my brother says. Grumpy and grumpier can find a way.” He sounds entirely sure of himself. “And that way is a common enemy. Baby, you think I’m bad. I can give you someone worse. You don’t like those floating shelves.”
“They’re fine for living spaces, but as the primary place to store dishes, they suck,” I admit. “And you have them in three different materials. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not. The owner is. And they’re for three different kitchens. Apparently she has two daughters and she’s decided to…”
I shake my head. “No. No, she did not.”
He is not about to say… He can’t.
“She’s splitting the whole place into three separate residences.”
My knees get weak, and not for the right reasons this time.
Reid simply leans over and picks me up, hauling me against his chest. “I think we should get back in that ridiculous bed, I’ll blow your mind again, and then we can talk about how we’re going to take down the new owner.”