Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
When I reach the couch, I sit awkwardly on the edge of the cushion with my hands clenched tightly on my lap, head down.
“Tell me everything,” he says.
Raising my head, I face the man I used to love with every breath in my body.
And then I do just as he commands.
CHAPTER 3
Kynan
I flip the bacon, glancing up from my efforts to look across the kitchen, through the living room, and to the curved staircase that leads to the second floor where Joslyn is still apparently sleeping. I had hoped the smell of food would lure her down, since I don’t relish the thought of having to wake her up. Even the thought of hearing her husky morning voice or seeing her hair mussed from a long night’s sleep would bring back too many unsolicited memories of when we were a couple.
Besides, it’s still super early yet. I get up at five every morning to get in a quick workout, followed by breakfast and coffee. I’m on my third cup now. My stomach is growling because I’ve delayed starting to cook by at least an hour to give Joslyn an opportunity to get some more sleep. She looked bad last night, and she needs the rest.
Just the thought of those marks on her causes fury to swirl within me and I try to push it right back down again. I’ve got no business being enraged on Joslyn’s behalf. She’s nothing but a client to me now. I should only feel a healthy amount of concern for her safety with a pressing need for due diligence to catch this creepy fuck as soon as possible.
That’s it.
Truthfully, she deserves nothing more from me than a professional job well done.
It’s true that once, a long time ago, she had my love and undying devotion, but that was summarily killed when she left me with no explanation and moved to another state to pursue her career. One might think that’s a little harsh of me, because shouldn’t she be able to chase her dreams? And the answer is hell yes. But I’d offered to give up my career to follow her wherever her career might take her, so it was extra crushing when I wasn’t invited along.
The object of my current ire comes down the stairs, and I hate how much I’m attracted to her as she carefully descends by supporting herself with one hand on the banister. She’s now two days post attack from the stalker who managed to break into her house, and I can tell she’s even more sore today than yesterday.
Despite everything, she’s a goddamned punch to the gut. Joslyn is even more beautiful now than she was twelve years ago at the age of nineteen. She’s filled out in all the right places and despite the haunted expression in her blue eyes, her face is a work of art any man would be hard pressed to ignore. Her hair is more of a platinum blonde than when we were together, a color I can only describe as silver moonlight. Granted, it could use a good brushing, but I find the pale color suits her even better except it makes the bruising on her neck stand out in stark contrast.
Those marks, clearly from a man’s hands around her throat, were the first thing I noticed when I laid eyes on her last night. I’d battled a rage so intense I’d almost stumbled down the last two steps when I came down to meet her.
I’ve seen Joslyn a bunch of times over the years.
Usually on entertainment shows, giving interviews and such.
Accepting awards and signing autographs.
She’s come a long way from her early days as a Vegas pop singer.
Even in a wrinkled t-shirt and threadbare sweatpants, she takes my breath away. Her hair is piled messily on top of her head like a shining halo. But I have to remember that she’s no angel.
I pull the bacon from the pan, placing the slices on a paper-towel-lined plate. It gives me a reason to avert my eyes from Joslyn as she gingerly makes her way into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she says hesitantly.
“Morning,” I reply, turning to give her a critical once over. I push aside the flutter in my stomach, which she somehow still makes me feel, then notice the bruising on her neck is a darker purple. I’m certain about one thing… before all this is through, I’m going to make that fucker pay for what he did to her. “Coffee?”
“I can get it,” she replies with a wan smile. I nod toward the coffee pot on the back counter beside the sink. My eyes follow her as she makes her way around the island.
“Cups are in the cabinet above the pot and cream is in the fridge. Still take your eggs over easy?”