Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Laughing and playing with my dog in the kitchen was nothing I’d ever experienced. The time I had spent in the kitchen was to help the staff prepare meals. Alpheus often sent me there when they were short-handed. The head chef, Manella, normally placed me with Donnette, the pastry chef, and she was the one who taught me how to decorate with icing. Manella required perfection and working in the kitchen had been stressful work. Not somewhere with puppies and laughter.
I turned the corner that led to the hallway where my bedroom was located, and the sound of a door opening behind me had me glancing back. Luther walked out of the room, holding something to his mouth. A damp cloth? What was wrong?
His gaze swung over to meet mine, and the corner of his mouth I could see slightly quirked.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, fully facing him now.
He dropped his hand and revealed a swollen, cut lip. “Nothing I’ve not had before,” he replied. “Did you eat whatever it was Jayda was baking?”
I shook my head, studying his injury. “Did someone hit you?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “But I dodged it enough that it didn’t bust it. This’ll heal easy.”
“Who?”
I’d left him on the porch with Mal a little over an hour ago.
“Mal,” he replied.
“Why?”
He lifted his hand to put the cloth back over the swelling. “I asked for it.”
He’d asked to be hit?
“You did?” I asked incredulously.
He gave me a smug look. “Sometimes, I don’t know when to stop. Or, hell, I know, but I just can’t help myself.”
“What…” I shook my head. “What did you do to him?”
Luther licked his lips. “Told him not to worry. That you hadn’t started calling me Daddy.” He winked. “Then I added yet. Probably shouldn’t have. But, damn, it was funny.”
I stared at him. What had he meant by that? I didn’t want him to be my father. Not at all. I wanted him though.
“Come with me. I want to watch you eat something,” he told me with a nod of his head.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, but I did want to go with him. It seemed I always wanted to be with him.
“Lace,” he said in a serious tone, “you need to eat. Please.”
Well, when he said it like that and added please eating didn’t sound so bad. My feet began moving toward him, not caring that my head was telling me to go to my room, that I didn’t need food.
“Good girl,” he praised, and all the things inside my chest felt as if they’d been lit up.
My lips curled into a smile I couldn’t help as joy radiated through me. It seemed that Luther’s praise was my dopamine trigger.
Twenty-Five
Luther
I was fucked.
Or was I?
No one was forcing me to stay here and watch her. I could leave. Go to a damn strip club. Take on two bitches at a time. I did not have to stand in this goddamn room and watch her sleep like a psycho.
So, why wasn’t I moving? I just had to walk back out the door I shouldn’t have come in. Keep walking until I was in my truck and headed to Jacksonville. Get out of Madison. Hell, I could stay out all night. Wake up with naked women in my hotel room. It was what I did. What I loved.
Lace’s brows drew together in a frown, and she whimpered. My entire body tensed, and I took a step toward her. She shook her head frantically, and another distressed sound came from her lips.
Dammit! I wasn’t going anywhere.
This was why I’d come in here. To make sure she was sleeping soundly.
She’d laughed today. Twice. And I was the one who had made her do it. When she laughed, her eyes fucking sparkled. I wanted to do more of it. Which was why I’d left her with Jayda and Branwen and gone to the gym to beat the hell out of a punching bag.
“No,” she cried softly in her sleep.
My long, purposeful strides had me at her side in seconds, and I forgot all the shit I’d told myself while throwing punches earlier. Because I was here. Protecting her. Like it was my damn job.
“Please, no.” Her voice was louder now, and I wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore. She was starting to flail around on the bed, like she was fighting the demons in her head.
I kicked off my boots and sat down beside her on the bed, stretching my legs out in front of me. Then I reached for her and brought her to me, careful not to hurt her ribs. Cuddling her like she was a child.
“Shh,” I whispered close to her ear and ran my hand down her head in a soothing motion. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
She stilled instantly, and I expected her to wake up and look at me with those damn eyes I struggled to ignore. But she relaxed instead, then buried her nose against my chest and inhaled deeply before letting it out with a sigh. My arms tightened around her, but that shit was a reflex. That was all. She was a kid. Mal’s kid. Sure, she was almost thirty, but she was young enough to be my kid. Hell, my son was only a few years younger than her.