Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t you?”
I smile. “Normally, when I feel like kissing a woman, I do it. I know the signals. Of course, I misread the signal once. Got my face slapped.”
She drops her jaw.
“But you wouldn’t have slapped my face.”
“Probably not.”
“You also weren’t ready for a kiss that night.”
“Absolutely not,” she echoes. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to wait until my deathbed—” Her eyes go wide as a look of horror crosses her face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that. My father just died, and I’m not… I don’t want you to think…”
I reach across the table and pat her hand. She doesn’t pull away.
“I don’t think anything of the sort, Tessa.”
She frowns. “It’s odd, really. I’m devastated about my father’s loss, of course. I miss him horribly, and I wish I had been able to see him one last time. But I’m actually feeling better than I have in a month. What does that say about me? What the hell kind of person am I?”
I shake my head. “I’m not a therapist, but I’d say you’re pretty normal. Your father’s death got your mind off of the trauma you’ve experienced. In a way, it’s helping you heal.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
I shrug. “Like I said, I’m no therapist. It’s just a theory.”
We’re silent for a few minutes, until—
“So…is this a date?” she asks blatantly.
I laugh lightly. “I think so.”
“Good.” She smiles.
And it’s about as genuine a smile as I’ve ever seen on her face.
“So you want to date me?” I ask.
She blushes but doesn’t break our eye contact. “I didn’t think I’d ever want to date anyone again, but yes, Ben. I think I would like to date you.”
“Then we’ll continue taking it slow.”
She narrows her gaze. “What if I don’t want to take it slow?”
“Baby, I don’t want to take it slow, either.” I grin. “Trust me. I’ve had all kinds of images in my head about all the things I want to do to your luscious body. But I’m going to wait until you’re fully ready to experience them because I want your mind in that game.”
“Will you at least kiss me some more?” she asks coyly.
“Guaranteed.”
She smiles and takes a bite of her frittata. She’s eaten more today than I’ve ever seen her eat, including on the island when we were inundated with gourmet food.
I flake off a piece of my salmon and bring it to my mouth. The flavor of the capers explodes across my tongue. Then, without thinking, I raise my glass of champagne. “To…whatever this is.”
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I know exactly what this is. I’m interested in Tessa—more interested than I can remember being in any woman ever.
She probably needs more time to heal, and she may not be ready for what I want to do to her.
And with the way my life is going right now…
I don’t have any business entering into a relationship.
Not until I deal with Dirk Conrad once and for all.
…
Fifteen Years Earlier…
“We’re going to need some pliers,” Jerry says.
“Pliers?” I shake my head. “What the fuck for?”
“We’re going to have to pull his teeth out.”
Green acid crawls up my throat. “You can’t be serious.”
“We’ll get rid of this body,” Jerry says, “but there’s still a chance it may be found. If it is, forensics will be able to identify him by his dental records.”
“Jesus Christ,” I say. “How the hell do you know all this? What the fuck are you into, Jerry?”
Jerry scowls at me. “Just get me some pliers. This is a construction warehouse. There are tools here, right?”
Yeah, there are tools here. Pliers. I know exactly where they are. Numbly, I walk through the aisles until I find what I need.
I bring the pliers back and hand them to Jerry. “This is all you, man.”
Jerry takes the pliers, looks them over. “One of you shine your phone on his mouth, and another one of you needs to hold his head.”
Oh. Fuck. No.
I’ve done all I’m doing.
Dirk holds the guy’s head while Carlos shines the flashlight from his phone on the dude’s teeth.
I want to turn away, but this is a train wreck.
A train wreck, and I’m caught right in the middle, about to be smashed by two boxcars.
Jerry pulls the poor guy’s teeth out one by one, so deftly that I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time he’s done such a thing.
Damn, he probably pulls teeth out of animals for sport or something.
Why the hell did I get involved with these idiots?
“We need a tarp or something,” Carlos says.
I scout out the warehouse once more, but I don’t find any tarps. I’ve got one in my truck, though, which I was stupid enough to drive here. “No tarps in here,” I say when I return, “but I’ve got one in my truck. I’ll be back.”