Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
I laugh and it feels good. But my mood quickly sobers. “My insurance money came in. All of it. I can buy a new place now.”
The car goes quiet. Finn clenches the steering wheel. “You waited until I was driving to tell me this, didn’t you?”
“Why would I do that?” But guilt rushes over my skin like a hot, itchy rash.
His long, speaking look makes it worse. “So I wouldn’t be able to persuade you with my best weapons.”
He’s right. Whenever he gets his hands on me, I can’t think straight. I glance at the road, watching traffic. “You’d try to persuade me?”
He makes a noise in his throat. “You serious? I’ve been dreading you leaving. You think that would change now that we’re together?”
“No. But maybe I—”
“Don’t say it,” he warns.
“—should move,” I finish. “Things can get complicated.”
“Then let’s keep them simple.”
So stubborn.
“We just got together,” I say. “We should take time to get to know each other. What if we start living in each other’s pockets and find out we get on each other’s nerves?”
He scoffs. “We’ve lived together for weeks, Chess. That discovery time has come and gone. We’re awesome as roommates and even better as lovers.”
The traffic comes to a stop when we reach a red light, and he turns to face me. His big body overwhelms the space. I can scent the soap he used in the shower this morning. The soap I lovingly ran over every tight muscle while I’d showered with him.
Finn’s eyes meet mine, and I see the knowledge of what we do to each other in there. I see other things as well, feelings that make my chest tight and my cheeks heat.
“I’m crazy about you,” he says softly. “I don’t need time to figure that out.”
“I’m crazy about you, too,” I whisper. “I’m just scared.”
Before I can blink, he leans in and gives me a firm kiss. It’s more tender than sexual. I need that more right now. How does he know to do that?
He pulls back and cups my cheek. “We’re going to be okay.”
A horn honking makes us both jump. Finn’s smile is brief. “See? Discussing this in the car sucks. I’d totally be taking your clothes off if we were at home.”
“My regret is an ocean.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Besides,” I say, “I’m going out to dinner with James when we get home.”
“Right.” Finn can’t hide his disappointment. But it doesn’t last because the man is not a quitter. He nods as if deciding something. “I’ll just have to fuck you later tonight.”
“God.” I laugh, shaking my head, even as heat licks up my thighs. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Babe, you have no idea.”
* * *
I should have known something was up as soon as James told me he was treating me to dinner at Lüke. He knows full well I love the desserts there, and that I become a contented, purring pussycat after eating one.
But no, I’d been so distracted by my anticipation over said desserts that I let myself be lulled into a false sense of security.
“Look at you,” James says as we sit down at a tiny table by the window. “You’re freaking glowing.”
“It’s a suntan.” I scan the menu, bypassing the dinner section. “Oh, they have steamed chocolate tonight.” Orgasm in the Form of Chocolate should be the dessert’s formal title.
“No . . . it’s not the suntan.”
James peers at me for too long, and I fight the urge to lift my menu in front of my face. Instead, I return his stare with a bland expression. But it doesn’t work. He suddenly beams.
“You fucked him!”
A table of older businessmen turns our way.
I glance at the men now snickering at us, give them a death glare that has them looking away, before leaning in to hiss at James. “Would you keep it down? I like this restaurant. And you cannot tell I had sex with Finn just by looking at me.”
“You’re blushing bright red,” James points out.
Fuck.
“All right, Miss Marple, I had sex with Finn. Can we eat now?”
“We don’t have any food to eat yet. And if you’re going to make me a Christie detective, make me Poirot.”
“I knew you had a Poirot thing! With all those hats and bow ties.”
James gives me a level look. “Are you sure you aren’t Miss Marple?”
“Truthfully, I’d love to live a Miss Marple life when I’m older. Settle down in a quaint English village, rife with murder and deceit and afternoon teas.”
James rests his chin in his hand. “I’ve missed you, Chessie Bear.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
James has been in New York more than he’s been in New Orleans. At this point, I see Finn more than I see James.
“That’s it?” James says now, his feathery red brows lifting in outrage.
“What are you talking about?”
He huffs. “You’re not going to tell me anything about Finn?”