Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
And I’d felt nothing until … Jordyn.
God help me, I felt everything now.
Not just because of her beauty. Nae. She was beautiful in ways that wrecked me, but her soul called to mine. Her voice when she laughed while chatting with other people on the beach. A beach read? Never heard of it until she engaged in a deep discussion, exchanging titles with a woman about a week back.
And the way Jordyn breathed when she slept, like she was at peace, even though when she awoke, she’d glare at me like this was a war. If she could remember the girl she was—brave, kind, unshattered—she’d be the whole package. Everything I never dared to dream of.
Still rooted to the marble floor, I told her, “Tell me something. Anything. Even if it’s juvenile.”
Jordyn’s mouth corked. “Okay. Color. Easy. Burnt Orange. Well …”
“Well, what?”
“It was the favorite color of someone I once knew. Katlego”
I nodded, filing that away for later like an operative logging details in a mission dossier. I wasn’t jealous. I didn’t do jealous. I just … took a note. A simple note which included expiring the guy if necessary. “Blue,” I offered. “Dark blue.”
“Boy, clearly, you don’t know how many forms of blue there are?”
“Sky blue. Baby blue. Dark Blue?” I smirked. “Dark blue wins.”
“There are more than 160 distinct shades.”
“Learn something new every day.” I folded my arms, trying to appear unfazed. Inside, I was unraveling. Man, she’s killing me.
I cleared my throat again, just excited that Jordyn was speaking to me. “You’re a book girl. So, favorite beach read? That’s what you read, right? We can listen to audiobooks or even watch a movie. One could live a hunner lifetimes through either.”
“A hundred.” She chuckled.
That laugh. I would’ve set the world on fire to hear it again. “Don’t laugh at me, girl,” I replied, hoarse. “Now, what books do you read?”
“I see you like eavesdropping.” She smirked. “I was just giving that lady on the beach a few suggestions. My fav is thriller. James Patterson. Any Alex Cross novel. I’m ready to stream the next season. Aldis Hodge is one fine brother.”
Oof. Strike one to the chest. Not because I felt threatened. In this moment, I remembered how far from ordinary I was. She wanted someone who could make her heart race. Who would sweep her into a heat-drenched kiss, pin her to the wall, and make her hot all over.
And here I was. The guy who preferred discussing the necessity of a High Altitude Low Opening for a black-ops mission. “Okay,” I replied, tone flat and sarcastic. “No Alex Cross. Got it.”
“Not fair, Jamie,” Jordyn called after me. “You’ll be hooked on that show. Alex—”
Halfway through the bedroom, I muttered, “Nae! I’d rather watch Pretty Woman.”
A snort echoed behind me.
Man, I’d walked right into that.
“What do you know about Pretty Woman? Huh?” I could practically see her lips fall into a delicious smirk.
Without offering an answer, I smiled and sauntered into another room down the hall for a shower. The answer was: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Leith had mentioned how his wife still loved Pretty Woman and that what we were doing was similar on the drive to Tarzana Hills.
In the other bathroom encased in marble with a large shower, I ran the water—without adjusting the temperature—and wiped the silly grin from my face. I removed my cell phone from my pocket.
Though I’d left Leith’s many text messages on Delivered, I could see his next ultimatum from the text ribbon at the top of the locked screen.
LEITH:
You’re ghosting me again?? Okay. I’ll not bother you any longer. You have until two weeks before Christmas to reach out to Mam and Da about the girl. They deserve to know about the others!
Similar to his prior messages and about six weeks’ worth of calls, and then his harping about giving me a deadline to respond as if he was being noble and philosophical, I disregarded this one too. Had too much on my mind for his mess.
Way too much.
Every muscle in my body had strained when Jordyn pulled out of her exercise clothing like it was nothing. But to me, it was everything. It wasn’t the sex. It was the intimacy. The trust. The ease in which she existed in her skin after all the damage. Or was it because of the damage? Had it caused her to lose all sense of modesty?
I groaned. The cold bit into my skin while I peeled out of my shirt and shorts. This wasn’t about purity culture—which I’d used on Devi—or shame. It was about discipline. About not letting my past—or my pain—define how I loved Jordyn.
Never been with anyone.
I didn’t count seven days of abduction. Therapy helped me understand that I was still a virgin. I leaned my forehead against the marble wall and whispered into the water. “Maybe I should propose to her tomorrow. She’d called me weird for less.”