Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“It’s not you, Jason. That’s not what I’m saying.”
Shit. What else is she gonna say? “Yeah, I know. Some people just don’t want to settle down. I get it.”
A noise comes from her, but I’m not sure what it is. “But…” she starts, and I wait, but she doesn’t finish her thought.
“Liv, we should probably talk about something.”
She tenses, and her hands grip mine even tighter. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“There’s a reason I told you not to let Rick touch you.”
“I figured there was,” she says and when I don’t say anything, she continues. “Are you going to tell me why?”
CHAPTER 14
OLIVIA
I wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t. “Jason,” I say after he’s been quiet for too long. “Why do you care if I let him touch me?”
He looks alarmed for just a second and then he shakes his head as if he’s coming to terms with something. “I know and understand you don’t want a relationship with me, Liv, but I don’t share. When you are with me—while you are with me, for however long that is—you’re with me. I won’t share you.”
I should feel good with what he’s saying. I mean, I do like him telling me that he doesn’t want to share me, but I also want him to want more. I clench my eyes shut because I know I’m being ridiculous. I told him that I didn’t do relationships. I should be thrilled with what he said. He’s giving me what I said I wanted.
“I can’t see your face, Olivia. Did I freak you out? What are you thinking?”
I blow out a breath. “What about you?”
He points at himself. “What about me?”
I reach over and put my hand on his thigh, and his muscles flex under my palm. “I mean when we’re together, are you going to be going out with other women?”
His answer is instant. “No. Hell no.”
“What if…” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.
He covers my hand that’s on his leg. “Forget it. I’m not interested, Liv. When I’m with you, I’m with you.”
I laugh, trying to make light of it, but on the inside I’m a bundle of nerves pulled tight. “You sound pretty sure.”
“I’m one hundred percent sure. No doubts.”
I reach up and run my fingers along his jaw. “I don’t know if you know it or not, Jason, but you’re pretty hot.”
I love the way he tilts his head into my hand. It’s like he loves having me touch him. “You think I’m hot?”
I burst out a laugh. “Yeah, me and the rest of the single women in Whiskey Run.”
He lifts his shoulders up and lets them fall again. “There’s only one woman I’m wanting to be with, Liv. That’s you.”
I’m speechless, which is saying a lot for me.
His voice is gruff when he asks me, “Can I ask you a question, Liv?”
I stop stroking his chin, and when I start to pull away, he grabs my hand. It’s like I’m drawn to him and I lean even closer. “Yeah, you can ask me anything.”
“Can I touch you?”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, his cheeks turn a bright red, and he shakes his head. “Shit, that didn’t come out right. I want to see you but since I can’t, I want to feel you.”
When I don’t answer him, he assures me, “Your face. No funny business.”
My voice is breathy. “Yes.”
He sits up a little taller and turns on the cushion to face me. I do the same, drawing my leg up on the couch between us. I grab his hands and put them on my shoulders.
His hands are warm on my bare skin. He runs a finger across the strap of my dress. “Do you have a dress on?”
I gulp. “Yes.”
“What color is it?” he asks huskily.
“It’s blue. Almost the same color of your eyes, and there are little daisies on it.”
He keeps stroking along my strap. “Do you like daisies?”
I try to concentrate on what he’s asking me. “Yes, they’re my favorite.”
He nods and then rests his hands heavily on my shoulders again.
He keeps them there and already, my nipples have puckered. Geez, how am I going to survive this?
He doesn’t move. “What color is your hair?”
“Red.” He nods and then reaches around my neck and runs his fingers through it. He strokes it softly to measure the length and threads his fingers through it.
“What color are your eyes?”
I smile. “Green.”
He nods and moves his hand from my hair back to my neck. “Can I touch your face?”
I nod, and I know he can feel the rapid beat of my pulse under his fingers. He brings his hands to my cheeks and then softly strokes his fingers over my nose, my cheeks, my eyebrows and then down my nose again and to my lips. He traces them softly, and I feel that I can’t breathe. My body trembles, and his hands pause. “You okay?”