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)
A man.
I scrambled to my feet, just as alert as the hairs on Rebel’s spine. She glanced at me, then glared at him, ready for a command. I looked up at the man, wide-eyed. Tall. Built like carved muscles from marble. His skin was smooth and brown, his eyes unreadable. What was worse? He didn’t seem concerned about the dog’s subdued snarl at my side.
Was he Bratva? One of Alek—
“Are you okay?” he asked, an Arabic accent soft but firm.
I nearly collapsed with relief. Not a Russian Bratva enforcer.
“Yes. Just waiting for my husband.” I shook my hand through my hair. Tiny granules fell as I nodded toward our house. “There he is now.”
The man jogged off without a backward glance. Smart move.
Jamie ran onto the shore, shirtless and in basketball shorts. That body should’ve come with a warning. I turned away, but not before my heart did a stupid thump. Torture. Daily, friggen torture.
“You left the house.” His voice was low, but fire stoked in his eyes. “Jordyn, why would you just leave without telling me?”
“I—”
“And who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“He could’ve been a scout. You exposed yourself out here, Jordyn. Alone.”
Dang, I preferred JorJor these days.
“How could you just sit out here by—” And then, his voice cracked. All the fury faded into fear. “JorJor, you showed them a weakness.”
“He saw me have a meltdown. He asked if I was okay. People do that, soldier.”
Jamie tugged me into his arms, and I melted. Just like that. A puddle in his arms. Weak within his clutch as whitecaps rolled toward us on the shore. I remembered my first day of freedom, allowing the ocean to push, shove, and tug, thinking that was the last time someone or something would move me. Could move me. But this man moved my heart every day. He brought my pulse to a frenzied crescendo more than any ecstasy I’d ever felt. He stirred something more dangerous than lust. In the five months that I’d gotten to know him, Jamie made me fall in love. Then he’d made my heartbeat stop dead in my chest because he didn’t want—
Jamie’s calloused, large, trembling hands framed my face. “You’re fine,” he said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me.
The man didn’t realize what he was doing to me. He was reviving my heart and shattering it by not loving me the way I needed. But you owe him, Jordy. He saved you. And I loved him with all of me. So, what gives? I mumbled, “Let’s just go inside. Shower. Breakfast? I’m not in the mood to run today.”
Jamie took my hand, his fingers stitching into mine, and he walked with me along the sand back into the house. “Before you get that shower,” he said.
I stopped near the staircase, facing away from him. “Mm-hmm?”
“Can you turn around?”
No. After a beat, I did as told. I owed this man my life. A smile formed on my face. One of those smiles I offered arrogant men to placate them. I felt sick. I wanted love.
Jamie held something behind his back. Despite his linebacker build and strong features, his nerves were charming. I wanted to kiss the hesitance off his lips.
“What do you have there?” If it were a 5000-dollar pair of shoes, I might hate myself for the enticement. The man could work my mind and my body without touching me already. He better not give me lavish gifts.
“Oh, nothing much.” He revealed a large Amazon package and passed it to me.
As I peeled open the bag, the familiar scent of mango and cocoa butter rose from it. Hair grease. Hair cream. Shea butter. My heart stopped.
“It’s uh …”
Tears met my eyes.
“Well, it’s not a big deal.” He fumbled with his words. “I saw you spritzing olive oil in your hair a few times. You could’ve asked, JorJor.”
I swiped another tear. All Black people staples. This guy got me. But did he really? I shoved away the thought and focused on gratitude. “You- Googled this?”
“Fell into a rabbit hole too. Pretty sure I saw a video about deep moisturizers. And shrinkage. Still don’t get it. But the women seemed to hate shrinkage.”
A laugh-sob escaped me. Why was he this perfect guy? How did he get me? But still not get me.
“Oh, if you think that’s funny, then get this. The only form of butter I once knew was Irish butter. Big Br … Dad always muttered about getting into a fight with an Irishman while drowning his pancakes in pure Irish butter. Silliness aside, I enjoy learning about you, JorJor.”
“I love you,” I murmured without thinking.
And so, it begins. The downfall of Jordy because she couldn’t keep her feelings in check. I slipped into the small space between us and kissed him. Not just a peck but a kiss. Deep. Real. On my tippy toes, hands behind his neck to bring him close, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and tasted tenderness and restraint.