Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“I won’t do this with you,” she says, her voice shaking. “No more. No more kisses at dance recitals and family dinners and at the fucking coronation of a king. No more messing with my head, Connor. I’m sure it makes you happy to know that I enjoyed fucking you. I can’t help myself from responding to you when you touch me, but I am done letting you use me. You don’t get to do that anymore.”
I’ve tried. I’ve kept my distance over the past few weeks and made sure that if she was going to be somewhere, I wasn’t. Yet the thought of staying away from her forever is pure fucking torture. Each day is getting harder and harder. All I want is this woman.
The server approaches her table, and she asks for the check, but he shakes his head and must tell her it’s been taken care of because she frowns.
I stand and start her way.
When she sees me coming, her gorgeous eyes widen, and all of the blood drains from her face as if she’s seen a ghost. Or her worst nightmare.
I fucking hate that.
“Thank you, Travis,” I say. The young man nods, and then he’s gone, and I take the seat across from Billie.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with a scowl.
“I own this place.”
She blinks at me, then seems to wilt. “You own this? The hotel, too?”
I nod, fiddling with the silverware on the table.
“Well, shit. I love this place.”
“You do?” I lift an eyebrow in surprise and feel oddly … proud.
“It’s a beautiful hotel. I’ve never stayed here, but I always eat here whenever I come to town.”
“And how often is that?”
She nibbles her lip. “Once a month.”
“You make a four-hour drive once a month?”
“It’s closer to eight hours because I go back the same day. I’m actually about to head out now. I just wanted to eat first.”
“I’ll walk you to your car, then.”
She doesn’t argue as I stand and button my suit jacket, and with my hand pressed to the small of her back, I lead her out the front door to the footpath.
“I’m that way.” She points to the left, and without thinking about it, I link my hand with hers, walking beside her, making sure she’s on the inside of the footpath.
Her fingers curl around mine, settling something in me, the way she always does when I touch her.
“So what brings you all this way once a month?” I ask.
“We don’t share personal things, remember?”
I scowl down at her, but she doesn’t look up at me, and I don’t push her. When we reach her car, I pull my phone out and send a text to Miller.
We’re leaving for BV now. Pick me up outside Thrifty Threads.
Miller: On my way.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Billie says and circles her SUV, unlocks it, and lowers inside. But when she pushes the ignition, nothing happens. I see her narrow her eyes, and she tries again, and after the third time, she simply rests her forehead against the steering wheel.
It’s a good thing I’m here.
I circle the bonnet and open her door. “You can ride back with me.”
“I have this, Connor. I’ll make some calls.”
“No, you’ll let me handle it, and you’ll ride back with me. I was heading back now anyway. My last meeting just wrapped up.”
Okay, that’s a lie. I was supposed to be here for two more days, but plans have changed.
“Seriously, thanks for the offer, but I can call Brooks. He’ll call someone, and they’ll tow me back. I can catch a ride with them.”
“If you think for one moment that I’ll let you ride for four hours from here with a strange tow-truck driver, you’ve lost your bloody mind, angel.”
Miller pulls up right behind her.
“Now, get in my fucking car.”
Billie narrows her eyes at me, then sighs. “Fine, I’ll ride back with you. But I’m not leaving my clothes behind.”
She stomps to the back of her SUV, opens the hatch, and points at two plastic totes full of clothing.
“I have to take these, too.”
“They’ll fit in the back, miss,” Miller says. “Please, allow me.”
“Oh, hi, Miller,” Billie says as she steps back to let Miller get the totes. He takes them in one trip, stacking them on top of each other, and I close the door behind him.
“Lock it up,” I say to Billie, gesturing to her car.
“Obviously, it’s not currently worth stealing,” she grumbles, but she presses a button on her fob, locking the vehicle, and I escort her to the back of my SUV.
She climbs into the back seat, and I walk around to join her on the other side.
“I’ll have our things sent to us,” I inform Miller as I pass him, and he nods in return. Once we’re all seated, Miller starts the car, and we’re headed toward Bitterroot Valley.