Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
He stays kneeling for a moment, looking up at me with something like reverence in his eyes. His lips are swollen, wet with me. There’s a dark satisfaction in his expression, like he’s just conquered something precious.
“You’re going to hell for this,” I say breathlessly.
“Was already going there.” He stands, towering over me again. His hand comes up to my face, thumb catching the tear sliding down my cheek, though whether it’s from pleasure or shame, I’m not sure anymore. “But at least now I’ll have something worth remembering when I get there.”
He picks up my discarded panties from the floor and pockets them like a trophy. Then he unlocks the door and peers out to make sure the coast is clear.
“Come on,” he says, offering his hand. “Time to go home.”
Home. To the house on Bishop property. To the bed we supposedly share. To the life I’m trapped in.
But as I take his hand and follow him out of the storage room, past the empty sanctuary, past the parking lot where people are still whispering about us, I can’t ignore the warmth flooding my system.
Can’t ignore that for a few minutes, in the middle of all the lies and fear and forced smiles, something felt real.
Even if it was just his mouth between my thighs in the place I used to pray.
Especially because it was that.
God forgive me.
I think I’m starting to accept being Calder Bishop’s wife.
Worse, I like it.
Saint
The house feels different when we walk through the door.
Not physically. It’s the same structure we moved into the other night, the same rooms and hallways and windows looking out over Bishop land.
Deep down, I know the shift in energy has nothing to do with the house.
Maybe it’s the weight of what happened at the church. Perhaps it’s the fact that my panties are currently in Calder’s pocket and I can still feel the ghost of his mouth on me. Or maybe it’s just that every hour I spend in this place with him means he sinks his hooks a little deeper into my skin. I don’t know. What I do know is that each of those things is changing me, making me see Calder in a different light.
Calder tosses his keys on the kitchen counter. “You want lunch?”
“I’m not hungry.” My voice sounds strange.
He studies me for a moment, and I can see him weighing whether to push. Then he nods. “I need to check on some things at the upper pasture. Fence line that probably got damaged in last week’s storm. Check the one we were working on the other day to see if the ranch hands finished it up. You going to be okay here alone for a few hours?”
He heads into the office and returns a black phone in his hand, but I’m still focused on the word alone.
Alone. It should feel like freedom, but instead, it makes anxiety spike in my chest. What if Roman shows up? What if—
“Hey.” Calder crosses to me, tips my chin up with his fingers. “You’re safe here. Roman won’t come to this house without me present. That would be admitting he gives a shit about you, and he’d never do that.”
“What about your brothers?”
“Sawyer’s in town meeting with the accountant. Levi’s helping with the horses. Kade...” He pauses. “Kade,” he grits out, “knows better than to bother you when I’m not here.”
The territorial edge in his voice should irritate me more than it does.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be fine.” It’s a lie, but one of us has to start believing that.
He searches my face, looking for cracks. Then he leans down and kisses me, soft and unhurried, tasting faintly of me. When he pulls back, there’s something almost tender in his ice-blue eyes.
“Lock the doors if it makes you feel better. I’ll have my phone.” He extends the one he’s holding. “This one is for you. It’s all set up and unlocked. You’ll have to set the code, and my number is already programmed. Call me if you need me.”
Then he’s gone, truck engine rumbling to life outside, gravel crunching under tires as he drives away.
I stand in the kitchen for a long moment, listening to the silence. Staring at the sleek—expensive—device in my hand. Should I call someone? Who? The only people I really ever talked to before were my dad and Allie. And I am ashamed to admit I don’t know either of their numbers off the top of my head.
The house settles around me, floorboards creaking, wind testing the windows. Just me and the weight of everything that’s happened. I should do something productive.
Clean. Unpack the few belongings Calder brought from the cabin, including my mother’s quilt. Go over what they had stocked here when we showed up. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from circling the drain of panic.