Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I could've guessed this was going to come back around full circle.
"There is no love lost between the two of them, that's for sure. Sadie always accused Dad of playing favorites, and I guess, in a way, he did. William was the firstborn son, the man meant for greatness. He groomed and molded Will into a man worthy of holding political office, and that demanded countless sacrifices on everyone else's part. Sadie included. She tried every chance she got to ruin William's chances at success. The guys involved in the orgy tape were from the same frat William joined in college."
"Hmm," he says but he does it in a way that tells me he probably already knew that. "But you never gave up on her."
"Until I did."
"You're not a bad person for finally finding the end of your rope. Most people would've put their foot down a lot sooner."
"It was a stripper."
"I'm sorry?" he says, his brow drawing tight.
"A stripper. At the spa. I picked a stripper off the menu."
He dips his head, incapable with the amount of alcohol we've consumed tonight to hide his grin. "I figured it was something like that."
"Why is that?" I challenge, trying to sit up a little straighter on the sofa only to discover I'm all but lying down on the damn thing. "Do you not think I'm capable of anything else?"
His eyes sweep from mine all the way down my body. "I can only bet that you're capable of many, many things, Ms. Preston."
"What did you pick?" I ask, needing him to tell his secret too.
"Cerberus created a persona for my undercover character."
"That sounds ominous," I mutter.
"A couple of decades ago, they would've probably had me tied up and whipped just for the fun of it, but we've matured a lot over the years." He pulls in a long breath, releasing it just as slowly, before he continues as if he's debating telling me at all. "I cuddled with a woman more than half my age."
He mentioned cuddling earlier but then he distracted me before I could question it.
"Cuddling?" I roll my lips inward, clamping them between my teeth to keep from laughing. "Where are you going?"
I snap up from the sofa, my head spinning with the effort, when he stands.
"I should go," he says, but he falls right back down to the sofa.
I plop down beside him, my hands bracketing my head as if it'll keep it from spinning.
"I'm too old," he mutters.
I look over at him, pulling his hands away from his face. Instead of backing away, I lean in a little closer, allowing the tip of one finger to sweep through the hair at his temples, while my thumb sweeps over the beard on the side of his face.
"That can't happen," he says as he pulls my hand away from his face.
Inside, I feel like a chastised child, but I've always been good at hiding my disappointment.
"Tell me about the Marine Corps," I say as I lean back on the sofa once again.
Chapter 17
Ace
I clench my jaw tight as I wake. Every muscle hurts. My joints feel as if they seized a year ago and I'm just now getting any range of motion back.
As the aches and pains aren't bad enough, I'm waking up beside a second woman I don't know in less than a week. I hate to think I'm forming some sort of habit with this shit.
This couch, as elegant as it looks standing across the room, isn't meant for crashing on. I blame my age and my inability to really sleep well ever these days, but then a feminine whine comes from beside me as Cora shifts.
"Shit," she mutters as she pushes herself into a sitting position. "Today is going to suck."
My lips puff out when I push a harsh breath past them. "I detect no lies."
She chuckles, her hand going immediately to her forehead when she stands.
My head is screaming, and I imagine hers is too.
"Breakfast?"
"No," I grunt, needing to get my bearings so I can get the hell out of here.
As if I hadn't spoken, she goes to the phone and orders two breakfasts, extra greasy and lots of carbs.
My stomach turns with the thought of eating.
I didn't get blasted last night, but there's something different about getting tipsy on champagne that makes for a really shitty morning after.
I feel like complete shit, and with the way her face contorts when she stood, I can see she isn't in a much better place.
Standing, she looks no less appealing than she did last night. Hell, if anything, the rumpled look is an improvement. All of her harsh edges seem smudged a little, making her more human and less robotic, but it didn't take her passing out on the couch for me to see that. I saw it last night in her quick, genuine smiles and in the way her nose scrunched when I said something distasteful. She held on to every word I said and didn't hesitate to ask questions, as if we were just longtime friends catching up.