Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
We could still share the place, do our thing, go our separate ways, and that would be the end.
Instead, sex happened, and then feelings.
I clench my jaw, shaking my head.
She meets us at the SUV a few seconds later, sharing the same grim resignation on her face.
Our Sully Bay disaster just grew ten times bigger.
17
FAR FROM HOME (MARGOT)
As soon as we’re back at the house, we check the locks on all the doors and windows.
That’s becoming habit now, nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a fresh urgency.
Somehow, I still have my hair.
Kind of miraculous when I’ve been fighting the urge to rip it out for the better part of an hour.
Thankfully, the kids are fine. They settle down in front of the TV in the living room, and I’ve made us this orange blossom tea I picked up at the market.
Not blueberry.
After this sad experience, I’m going to be over it for the next decade.
We’re in the library now with our tea, both of us trying to hold it together.
I just feel like I’m waiting for a crash of thunder. It’s like watching a storm rolling in every time he moves.
Kane stands with his back against the oversized leather chair, his head bowed and his shoulders stone as he scrolls his phone.
His vicious scowl says everything.
There are only a couple articles about us so far, but it’ll be everywhere soon. Molehills turn into mountains so easily in the media world.
“Hey,” I whisper, rubbing his arm as I hand him the tea. He sets his phone down, but he doesn’t pull me in closer for a hug.
“Hey, yourself.”
“It’s not so bad. We’ve both been through this song and dance before.” I’ve said the same thing three times since we got home, and each time I’ve been met with an indifferent grunt.
This time feels different.
Almost shameful.
Because we’re not a real couple navigating how to deal with the press so we can build our lives together.
We’re just two strangers with great chemistry and sheet-ripping nights.
Nothing intended to last—and definitely not under acid speculation from outsiders.
“I’m sorry as hell.” He slurps his tea so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t burn his tongue.
“Don’t be. It’s fine, honestly. I’m a Blackthorn.” I laugh as I lean beside him. “This kind of stuff happens when you have an interesting life. Nothing new. I probably would’ve gotten a mention or two anyway just by being here and poking my head into town. This other stuff, it’s just—” I shrug. “It’s drama. Clown stuff.”
“No.” He sets the mug down with a clink and faces me, his green eyes blazing. “It’s not business as usual, duchess.”
I swallow hard.
“If you’re mad that they think we’re dating, I get it. I—” I stop. I don’t know. This is the awkward part where I fidget in place, sipping my tea so I don’t have to look at him. “It’s happened before when I’ve been hooked up with guys. It’ll pass.”
His nostrils flare, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Is that supposed to make it better? More unwanted attention when we don’t even know who tried to fuck with the house?”
It was.
But I can’t say that now.
“All I’m saying is, the hit pieces are old hat for me. I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“I’m not,” he snaps. “This is a load of horseshit.”
“They’re just rumors, Kane.”
“And they shouldn’t have found us to run their mouths.” He paces between the tall bookshelves against the wall, and I watch the hard, angry line of his mouth, the tension ripping through him.
The way he moves, all power and intention.
So gracefully intimidating for such a large man.
I want to comfort him, but I don’t think I could bear being shoved away.
“They shouldn’t have known shit,” he snarls. “I’ve kept my head down and no one knows we’re here.”
“People talk. You know that. Pretty much all they do in sleepy little towns like this.” I shrug.
“Hunkering down with the Blackthorn heiress?” He shakes his head in a short, sharp motion. “What bullshit.”
I try not to be hurt.
It makes sense that he’s angry being ambushed, watching his not-so-peaceful family vacation go up in smoke. What little was left of it thanks to me.
It also makes sense that he feels he can talk about it openly.
“I never meant for this to happen,” he says raggedly, looking back at me. Every inch of his body is taut. “Never meant to drag you into this.”
“Seriously, stop. If we start pointing fingers over who’s more newsworthy, we’ll be here all night.” This time, I head for him, placing my hands on his chest and looking up into his face. His heart drums too fast. “It’s fine, Kane. Worse things have happened. I’ve lived through far uglier whispers, and I bet you have too.”
“That’s not the point.” His hand finds the back of my arm, but his grip feels loose. “I hate that it ruined our time here. Almost as bad as that prowler.”