Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Not normal. The definition hung in the air between them. She didn’t look at anyone. She was always perfect in her interactions with others. A mimic. What the hell was wrong with him? She was neurodivergent. Whatever trauma had occurred had happened because she was different. Lyric did her best to never appear different.
She had a problem with family. What did that mean? What had happened to her to make her believe she wasn’t good enough?
“Gotta work through this, Wildfire. You don’t give a damn about what I do, you really don’t. I don’t give a damn that you’re different. I like your different, and I hope you like mine. Because there is nothing normal about me. You saw me because of that. That’s how we connected in the first place. What’s normal about needing pussy every few hours and still not being satisfied? Tell me how that shit is normal. When someone is in my way, the first thought I have is removing them. Is that normal? Babe, we were meant to stay close. That’s why we’re both different. We were meant.”
He felt the tremor that ran through her, and he tightened his arms, surrounding her with a fortress. “I know it’s difficult to believe in anyone when you’ve never been able to, but you read me like a book, Lyric. You know I mean what I say. You’re safe. It’s safe to share with me.”
“They didn’t want me.” Her tone was so low he barely caught the confession. And it was a confession. There was guilt in her voice, as if she were to blame for whoever had thrown her away.
“Who?” he prompted. He had Code. Code could find anyone. There was no hiding from Code. Keys would hunt these people down, and they would come to the realization that there was not normal and then really not normal. He was to the extreme. His woman with her soft heart should have been protected.
“My parents. They didn’t want me. I had an older brother. He was normal and I wasn’t. I couldn’t look at them. Certain fabrics touching my skin made me feel as if there were spiders crawling all over me. I didn’t ever laugh because I didn’t understand humor. I had learning disabilities. I was a huge disappointment and embarrassment. I know because they told me daily.”
She wasn’t crying. That struck him hard. She was shaking, but she wasn’t crying. There was no self-pity in her voice, just that low, traumatized tone that shook him. She fell silent, and he didn’t make the mistake of pushing her. Lyric had to trust him with her secrets. He would go to the grave with them if that was her wish, but she could give those burdens to him, and he would take them on. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t a more perfect woman.
When she just pressed her face into his chest as if she were trying to crawl inside him, he kissed the top of her head several times. “You were created for me. You’re my perfection, Lyric. No one else gets me, and no one will ever know me the way you do. I think I went through everything I did so I could be with you.” He’d never meant anything more.
Her head tilted and she gave him her gorgeous eyes. “You are borderline crazy if you think I’m anywhere near perfection. I created an illusion in order to survive. That’s all I am, an illusion.”
He caught her chin before she could hide from him again. “The illusion works for everyone else, but not for me. I see you. The real you. You can pretend we aren’t meant to be; you can go down your ridiculous list of reasons why we aren’t compatible, but you know better. That’s why you rushed out of your safe salon with your blow-dryer and attacked men three times your size. That’s why you very carefully got the feeling back in one arm so you could throw a pair of scissors to me while facing down a gunman. You trust that I’ll have your back. And I know you’ve got mine.”
“Let’s not forget that every time you bring up either of those two incidents, you lose your temper and threaten me.”
“It isn’t a threat, Wildfire. It’s a promise.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, featherlight, no demands, just laying it out there. He wanted her as used to the intimacy of their touching as she was to their conversations. “And I don’t lose my temper. You haven’t seen that yet.”
Her eyes searched his. He held her gaze, wanting her to realize she really was safe. She didn’t have to look away or stare down at the floor or look at his chin the way she often did with others. She could look him right in the eyes, and he wanted that.