Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
I shrug. “It was pretty awesome to me.”
She puts a hand on her chest. “See, this is why I paid all that money. I knew you would be sweet. I could see it on the website.”
I open my mouth to tell her that the way I feel has nothing to do with the auction. But before I can, she crosses the room and flops onto the bed, careful not to slosh the bottle. She looks up at me with a grin. “Want some?”
I shake my head and lean against the entertainment center, watching her. “I think I’m good.”
She goes to take another sip only to realize it’s gone. My gut tightens. She said she never drinks.
“I must have been thirsty.” She giggles and goes to stand, wobbling more than she did earlier.
Empty stomach. Not a big deal. I remind myself of this, but the ten-year-old kid watching his parents get drunk doesn’t know that.
“Sit. I’ll get your next one,” I tell her. I move to the bar area and grab a couple of water bottles, plus a pack of cheese crackers that don’t have an expiration date. I ignore the text message on my phone letting me know I’m late on another round of bills. No shit there. I’m drowning, but I don’t want to think about that tonight.
She scowls at me when I hand her the water. “Start with this. You can have more champagne in a minute.”
“Bossy, bossy man,” she mutters.
I clink my water bottle against hers. “Here’s to us.”
She throws back her water like it’s another glass of champagne. “You promised the good stuff after this.”
“Let’s slow down here.” I pass her one of the cheese crackers.
She eats it in two bites then proceeds to belch louder than a truck driver. She scowls at me. “Say excuse me. Have some manners.”
I mutter a half-hearted apology, amused by her antics. She’s cute in a way that makes my heart pound and my mouth go dry.
“Too hot,” she murmurs and reaches for her slip. She yanks it over her head, pulling off her lacy white underwear next. I probably shouldn’t look but fuck, she’s my wife. She’s pink and beautiful down there, perfectly trimmed. I want to know exactly what she tastes like between those thick thighs. But I won’t touch her like that when she’s this intoxicated. No, if we’re going to be together, I need her to be sober and right there with me as I satisfy her curvy body.
When she’s completely naked, she snuggles onto the bed and pats the space next to her.
Every muscle in my body is tense. I should walk into the main area of the honeymoon suite. There’s a lumpy couch that I could sleep on. It’s the smart choice. The logical one. The one that won’t make me spend the night in sweet torment.
“Sleep by me, husband,” she says.
I’m headed straight to hell. No, I am in hell, I decide as I join her on the bed, yanking off my dress shirt but leaving on my pants and shoes. Seems smarter that way.
She puts her head on my shoulder the moment I’m here, but I don’t move. We’re quiet for several long moments then she says, “He cheated on me.”
I swallow hard. I remember that day in the rain, coming up the stairs to the second floor. I was on leave unexpectedly, so damn excited with that engagement ring in my pocket. Then just as I stood in the hallway, fumbling with my key, I heard another man’s voice in our apartment.
I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her. “You didn’t deserve it. Not any of it.”
She snores softly, and I don’t know if she heard it. But fuck, I’m going to do whatever it takes to help her believe it.
I press a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re incredible, and I’m going to fight for our marriage. Even if I have to fight a little dirty.”
Chapter 4
Mira
“Don’t go toward the package.” The muttered plea wakes me from my sleep. I blink open gritty eyes, my mouth feeling like it’s had cotton shoved in it all night long. My head pounds in a rhythmic sensation that almost has me wishing I were dead.
There’s something warm under my cheek, and I lift my aching head. With a start, I realize I’ve been sleeping on a man’s chest. It’s golden tan and hairy and dotted with dozens of scars. I’ve seen these scars before. On the auction website. That’s when I remember yesterday. My wedding. Stuart. Then Cord. Down on one knee. Proposing. Dancing with him.
I reach for him, to brush the strands of dark hair that have fallen over his forehead, but his sleepy words stop me. “Get your ass back here, Greene!”
My heart twists for whatever nightmare he’s reliving. He came from a place called Valor Ranch, where dozens of Marines go when they’re finished with their service. It gives them a chance to re-enter civilian life again while being surrounded by a brotherhood of men that understand what they’re going through. At least, that’s what the article I read online said.