Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Dax then proceeded to tell me how things were going to go between us. It sounded a bit practiced and rehearsed, but I’d listened intently.
“Regan,” he’d said, still holding me around my waist but with his head tilted so he could look at me. “I don’t have a lot to promise you. I have no clue what this attraction between us is, but I don’t regret acting on it this time. I don’t know where this is going to lead us, since I’ve never been good at relationships. But I can promise if we’re being intimate, then I won’t be with anyone but you. That’s about all I can offer you at this time. So either tell me to leave you alone or keep touching you. I’ll respect whichever decision you decide on.”
Deep down, I realize Dax doesn’t want a committed relationship and isn’t ready to settle down. It’s hard to envision a long-term future with him because of that. But he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I want to explore these feelings. My brain tells me to put a stop to this but my heart, which thinks Dax might actually be capable of more than he gives himself credit for, is calling the shots.
I’d responded by kissing him.
He’d made love to me, quietly and with consideration of the fact his sister was in his house.
Afterward, Dax rolled out of bed and got dressed, promising his world-famous chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. He has a game this evening, and he’d said something about carb loading. I took my time coming downstairs—getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and putting my hair up.
I find Willow at the nook in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. As soon as I step onto the cream tile floor, her eyes soften as they appraise me. I’d been prepared for this since I’d given Dax permission to tell her about my PNH, which he had early this morning when she got home.
Willow stands, rounds the table, and gives me a long, warm hug. In my ear, she whispers, “You’ve got this, girl. You’re fierce, brave, and as stubborn as your brother was.”
I squeeze her back. “I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
When Willow pulls away, I receive an encouraging smile that tells me it’s water under the bridge. She pats my arm, then returns to the table and her cup of coffee.
Coffee seems like a great idea, so I make my way over to the pot, which gives me a moment to appreciate Dax in his breakfast-making glory. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips, revealing the slanting vee muscles that disappear from sight. It’s hard not to get distracted by his rippling muscles. His hair is mussy—courtesy of my fingers—and he turns slightly to give me a wink and a grin.
“How many pancakes do you want?” he asks as he mans a griddle he’d just dropped butter on. A huge bowl of batter sits next to it.
“Two,” I reply as I open a cabinet to grab a mug.
As I pour, Dax moves past me. He does this not by giving me wide birth, but by brushing his body against me. His hands settle on my hips, and he squeezes affectionately. It’s a brief touch before he grabs a spatula from a drawer and sidles back to the griddle, but it was enough of a statement that I immediately cut my eyes toward Willow.
She’s watching with an expression on her face that I don’t like.
It’s worried, but it’s also not surprised. Dax must have told her we were sleeping together.
My face flushes with the awareness she knows everything. All my dirty laundry. I’m sick, I’m committing insurance fraud by marrying to get coverage, and I’m sleeping with her brother while knowing it’s nothing but casual sex to him and probably means more to me.
I wonder how much she pities me.
“I’m heading out tomorrow,” Willow says, addressing us both. “Going to head home and hang with the parents for a few weeks. Assume you’ll be able to swing by and spend some time there around your Detroit game this coming Friday?”
“Yup,” Dax replies as he pours four perfect pancake circles on the hot griddle. “And I was hoping Regan might be interested in coming on the trip, too.”
I jerk as I pour milk into my coffee, spilling a little. “Excuse me?”
Dax spares me a glance before slipping the spatula under a pancake. “Come home to Michigan with me. Stay at my parents. They’d love to see you.”
“I don’t want them to know I’m sick or we’re married,” I blurt out.
Willow’s head tilts. “But why? We’re your family now, even if you weren’t married to that bonehead making pancakes.”
I don’t speak or raise my head until Dax says, “Regan… you should. There’s no reason not to.”