Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
I swallow hard and call his name. After all of my teasing, this is it. This is the moment when the hot cowboy is finally going to ravish me.
Chapter 8
Sadie
When I call his name, it’s a whimper. It’s a plea. Maybe it’s a prayer. I don’t know what it is. All I know is I need him.
He shoves the clothes at me. His voice is raspy, thick with desire, when he says, “Get dressed. I’ll get a fire going.”
I change into the gray yoga pants and the flowing tunic with purple flowers on it. Desire thrums just under my skin, crackling like electricity. My nipples are hard points, my core is slick and swollen. Everything in me aches, desperate to rub myself against Barrett.
“Get it together,” I tell myself when I finally click off the hair dryer. My long, black hair is still damp. It’s wavy and soft and I don’t try to scoop it back into a bun.
Barefoot, I pad through the cabin until I find the living room where Barrett has started a fire. In front of the fireplace, he’s put down a pile of blankets and he’s already waiting for me in them. He’s changed into dry clothes, a white t-shirt and pair of blue jeans. He smiles up at me as soon as I come into the room. With a start, I realize that no one has ever been happy to see me.
I join him in the pile of blankets, and he instantly tucks one around my shoulders. When he pulls my hair free, so it’s not trapped under the blanket, his fingertips brush the sensitive skin of the nape of my neck. The touch is intimate, and I blink back tears. I’ve never been with someone that takes care of me the way Barrett always does.
I squeeze my eyes shut and will back the tears. “Don’t forget about me.”
He starts a slow massage of my neck, his touch sending warmth through me. “Tell me.”
“My mom was an addict. When she wanted to get high, she’d lock me in the closet in our apartment. It was small and dark, and it always smelled funny in there. But that wasn’t the hard part. The hard thing is she forgot I was there. She’d party for days at a time never thinking about me. Even now, it’s difficult for me to sleep at night. I don’t like the dark.”
He swears under his breath. “That never should have happened.”
Now that I’ve started talking, I can’t seem to stop telling him my story, “When a teacher finally noticed my absence, the state got involved. I was shuffled between various foster families for a few months before I was returned to my mom. The cycle continued until I was able to get a job working as a waitress when I was a teenager.”
“My strong, beautiful girl.” He places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “No wonder you’ve been so scared of what’s happening between us.”
It hurts to admit the truth, to tell him why I’ve been holding back so much from him. “I can’t give you my heart because it’s not whole. It’s only fractured pieces, and a guy like you deserves the world.”
His hands go lower, massaging my shoulders. I’m leaning into his touch, my muscles relaxing under his fingers.
“Then give me the pieces. That’s enough for me,” he promises, his voice a deep rumble as the thunder booms outside.
There’s no missing the sincerity in his voice, but it can’t really be that simple. “What if someday it’s not enough for you? What if the jagged edges cut you open?”
“Then I’ll bleed for you. I’ll bleed with you. And when the bleeding is over, I’ll stitch all the wounded places of your heart back together again. You don’t have to be whole. Just let me love you while you’re broken.”
A tear rolls down my face, and I quickly swipe it away before he can see it. I’ve never been cared for, and I don’t know how to let myself be loved. “Can we go slow?”
He makes a hum of approval. “As long as we travel together, we can go as slow as you need.”
I blow out a shaky breath. I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff and I’m about to jump. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I need to know I tried. I need to know I was brave. “Just be gentle on my heart.”
“Always, beautiful girl,” he says and the way he says those words makes me think that everything is going to be OK.
We drift into silence, interrupted only by the noise of the crackling fire and the lashing rain against the windowpanes.
“Mm, that feels really good,” I tell him, leaning into his touch. The way he’s massaging my tense muscles and holding onto me is making me feel things. Fluttery things low in my belly.