Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
He slid his hands under the blanket, palming her naked ass. “Watch it.”
Jersey giggled.
Ian’s gaze settled on her face and the scar beneath her eye. He leaned forward and kissed it. “Fisher’s ring cut your eye and left a scar. It’s how I knew for sure it was you that day at the hot dog stand.”
She nodded.
“I’m going to discover why you say you like olives but won’t eat them.” Ian twisted his mouth.
Jersey glanced over his shoulder, her brow slightly wrinkled. “The wife of the man I killed. Her name was Sharon. She was oblivious and evil in her own way. And a drunk. One day I saw her sitting in the kitchen, drinking something with olives in it. A martini. I’d never had an olive before. I asked her what they were, and she pulled one out and handed it to me. The gin burned my tongue, but I liked the salty olive. I still do, but they just bring back bad memories.”
Ian nodded slowly, brow tense. “I’m going to take you to Tuscany. We’ll stay at a vineyard … I know a guy.” He smirked. “We’ll drink wine, eat pasta with our hands, and I’ll feed you olives until the only thing you think of when you see one is me.”
“I’ll check my work schedule. Which …” She pulled on his arm and glanced at his watch. “I open this morning. In an hour.” Jersey tried to stand.
Ian pulled her back to him. “Play hooky. Let’s go back to bed and do what terrible people do.”
“No. Sorry, Coop. I have a job. I like it. I want to keep it. So you’ll have to be terrible with someone else today.” She wriggled out from his hold on her and rewrapped the blanket around her body.
Ian frowned. “I fear we’re still not on the same page. I don’t want to be terrible with anyone but you. And I don’t want you—”
“To let anyone touch me where you’ve put your mouth?” She glanced at him over her shoulder at the doorway, a flirty grin on her face.
That erased his frown.
“I get it.” She rolled her eyes. “I think that leaves maybe my left pinky toe.”
“No.” Ian shook his head. “I covered that. ALL of that. ALL of you.”
“No.” She strutted toward the bedroom. “I have a left pinky toe to offer the right guy. So—COOP!”
He scooped her up and threw her onto the bed. She kicked and giggled as he wrestled with her leg.
“Eww … don’t do that.”
He sucked her left pinky toe and bit it for good measure. Then he kissed his way up her naked body, tangled in the blanket.
“Coop …” She grabbed his hair before his mouth did any more damage to her resolve. “I have to go to work.”
His tongue slid up her inner thigh. “What’s our record?”
She squirmed, intent on getting to work on time but tempted by his mouth’s ascent. “Three minutes, forty-two seconds.”
He grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “If I can beat that, will you get to work on time?” He kissed an inch higher.
Jersey tightened her grip on his hair as her pulse began to race. “On your mark … get set …”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
BONUS CHAPTER
One year later …
“Quit your job. I’m going on tour, and I want you to come with me.” Ian made his casual suggestion to Jersey over dinner by the pool.
“I can’t quit my job.”
“Why not?” He stared at the half-eaten grilled fish fillet on his plate, pushing it around with his fork.
“Because I need a job. I have a car payment.”
Ian fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He loved Jersey fiercely, but her stubbornness never failed to bring him to his knees. She didn’t need a job or a car payment. But loving her meant loving all of her, including her need for control—her reluctance to feel dependent on another human. Ian knew he had her love and more of her trust than any other human, but he didn’t have the parts of her that would never change. Still, it didn’t stop him from wanting them.
“What if you were my wife?”
She chuckled, staring out at the water while slowly chewing. “Are we really having ‘the wife’ conversation again? What’s next? Babies? I’m not marrying you, Coop. I’m not having your babies. I’m not accepting elaborate gifts. I’m not quitting my job. I’m not going on—”
“Fuck, Jersey!” He smacked his fork onto his plate with a loud clank and scooted back in his chair.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze slowly shifted to him as he ran his hands through his hair.
“I’ve worked my ass off on this album. Everything about you … about us … is woven into the lyrics. I will spend ten months on tour, and I want you with me.”
“Because you don’t trust me to be alone? Or do you not trust yourself?”