Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
His words jolt me from my sadness, and I quickly meet his gaze.
“I’m serious, Princess. I’ve never seen him this fucked up over a woman. Yes, there’ve been many, but this is different. I think you need to take a step back and look at it from his perspective as well as yours. No relationship is easy, and for you two, it will be even more difficult, but in saying that, he’s as immature as you are, so perhaps you’ll both learn from each other.”
“Dad, I feel like he’s blaming me for Ty coming over when he spent days, nights, weekends here with bimbos, and he doesn’t understand how I feel. Like . . . It’s the same thing. If he loved me so much, surely he can see that it gutted me as well?”
“He knows. He’s not stupid, Mila. Just, give him a chance.” I watch those icy-blue orbs corner me, and I can’t deny him. Yes, he’s my stepfather, he’s also one of the most important men in my life. The other being an ass who’s probably sitting moping over a double shot of whisky.
“Is he drinking?” I question. My response is the nod I was expecting. “Fine.” Pushing off the floor, I help Gabe to stand, and we head out of my bedroom and into the living room, only to find my now-boyfriend flopped on the sofa with a swollen hand nursing his drink.
When he spots me, he flies off the leather cushions, waiting tentatively to gauge my reaction. “Sweetheart.” One word, only that one fucking word, and I’m putty in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.” Hearing him say it makes me laugh. Almond-shaped eyes, dark brown, pin me to the spot. And then I’m gifted that smirk. The one I would do anything for, and I nod.
“Yes, you’re an asshole, a big one,” I counter, confirming that he’s been acting like a child. Worse than I have. I step forward, waiting for him to make the first move. My body trembles as he reaches for me, but I’m just out of arms reach.
“You two are going to be the death of me. Kiss and make up,” Gabe growls behind me, and I can’t help snickering. “Mila, Grayson, will you two just relax? You’ve both got pasts. There are bound to be exes popping up, but it’s how you handle them now that counts. Don’t let some asshole come between you.”
“It’s not about the asshole, it’s . . .” Grayson’s gruff tone is evidence he’s in a bad mood about Ty being here, but it’s not my fault.
“It’s the fact that Grayson doesn’t understand that while he’s been parading women in here, I’ve had a life as well. I didn’t become a nun and sit at home, Grayson.”
His dark eyes blaze with need, with something other than anger. “Sweetheart, please, just understand that I’m a jealous man. I don’t like sharing. Especially with pricks like that asshole that was here.” His head tips to the side in an endearing way, and I feel the fight slowly seeping from me, leaving me completely and being replaced with an ache.
To be in his arms.
To feel his lips.
To connect in the most primal of ways.
“Fine,” I murmur finally, and both men release an audible breath. “I’m tired,” I announce, waiting for Grayson to follow, and when he does, he wraps an arm around my waist and presses a kiss on my cheek. “Night, Daddy.” I smile.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Lissy is back,” Dad says with a small smile on his lips. At the mention of my cousin’s name, I spin on my heel, leaving Grayson to trail behind me.
“What?”
“Yeah, she came by the office yesterday, and you were so busy I forgot to tell you,” he says in a tone laced with desire. I knew my cousin had a thing for him. She made it abundantly clear, and now that she’s back, I bet he’s going to have a hard time — in more ways than one — reigning in the spark between them.
Chapter 13
Grayson
One year later
“Come on, Mila. We’re going to be late,” I call from downstairs. It’s her birthday in two days, and I’ve planned a trip to Paris. She’s never been to Europe, and I can’t wait to see her face when we land. She finished her finals only two days ago, and with the vacation upon us, whisking her away was something I’d planned months ago.
Moments later, at the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden steps, I turn to find the woman who seems to take my breath away every time I look at her. “I’m ready,” she mumbles, lugging the suitcase down step by step, and I rush to her side to help her.
“Did you pack the whole closet?” I grunt, trying to get the damn thing down.