Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
I bite my lip, hating how bossy he’s being.
And loving how bossy he’s being.
The part of me that makes my own rules and forges my own path is at war with the part of me that loves not being in charge of a big decision for once, as I say, “The guy I’m dating, even though I don’t date men with kids, you mean?”
He nods, lips hooking into a crooked grin. “Yes, but you’ve wisely decided to make an exception to your rule just this once.”
“Wisely?” I pull on the pajama top he tosses my way. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” he says.
As we finish dressing, I finally force myself to ask, “But what if there really is no future here? No matter how much both of us might want there to be? What if it just…doesn’t work?”
He pulls in a breath and lets it out slowly, holding my gaze for a beat. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Like grown-ups. Kind grown-ups who care about each other and want the other person to be happy.”
I let that soak in, the words hitting differently than they might have even an hour ago. Maybe magnificent sex doesn’t prove that a man’s a grown-up, but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt.
I believe Dean will stay kind, even when it’s hard.
I believe I will, too.
So, when he informs me that I’ll be accompanying him and the girls to the Mardi Gras parades on Tuesday and—assuming he can find a sitter—going to an adults’ only party with him after, I sigh and say, “Okay.”
He arches a brow, seemingly surprised that I’ve caved so quickly. “Okay?”
“I’m not completely unreasonable.” I shrug. “And I mean, with all this time on my hands, I’ll have to find something to do other than lie in bed all day touching myself and thinking about you.”
“You won’t have to worry about that,” he says, pulling me into his lap. “I’ll keep you coming, baby. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
I moan as he kisses me, long and lingering, while his fingers trail up the inside of my thigh, making me start to burn again.
Damn, this man.
I’m not sure I’m going to survive what he does to me, but hell…what a way to go.
“I was wrong,” I whisper when we finally come up for air. “Two weeks of emergency leave is exactly what you needed. Though I am curious where the new nanny is going to live if I’m still in the apartment over the garage.”
“I don’t think a live-in situation is right for me,” he says. “This time, I’ll be looking for someone who has her own place and wants to keep living in it.”
I grin. “Good.”
“Are you the jealous type?” he asks as we start toward the garage, hand in hand.
I consider the question before shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so.” We pause beside the door leading inside. “At least, I never have been before. But if anyone can make me develop a jealous streak, I think it’ll be you.”
He wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me closer. “I was jealous. I saw your friend get out of his car, and my thoughts were…not good.”
“Oh, yeah?” I arch a brow. “Is that why you were creeping outside my door?”
“I told myself I was just making sure you were okay, but…yeah.” He rolls his eyes self-consciously. “I didn’t like the thought of you having a sleepover with some hot young guy.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, leaning into him as I tease, “I only like old guys now. You’ve made me a believer. Be old or be gone, that’s my new motto.”
He laughs. “Thanks? I guess?”
“You’re welcome.” After a goodbye kiss that is crazy hard to quit—note to self: no more goodbye kisses with tongue—I head upstairs. I’m so giddy from the events of the past hour that I forget about Plato’s “present” until I’m on my way to the shower and spot a folded piece of paper with my name on it on the kitchen table.
Veering over, I grab the note and open it to read—
Okay, don’t freak out and DON’T do anything crazy—AND DON’T SO MUCH AS GOOGLE THIS GUY OKAY? YOU DON’T WANT TO LEAVE A DIGITAL TRAIL ON YOUR DEVICES—but, brace yourself…
I finally tracked down that speed camera footage the police said had been deleted by accident. It hadn’t been deleted, and I got a clear shot of the man who hit you abandoning the stolen truck at an intersection.
His name is Dex Valerie.
I need to dig deeper when I’m not about to fall asleep, but it looks like he’s a big deal in the UFC community around here. He used to be a fighter. Now, he runs a gym and fight club downtown. No smoking gun yet, but a lot of cops like the club’s social media. Like…A LOT a lot.