Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Heat scalds my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Something came up and I had to leave.”
Even though he nods as if accepting the lie, the curl of his upper lip says otherwise. “Right.”
I straighten on the couch and attempt to work up some indignation. “What? It’s true.” Not wanting to argue, I shift and change the subject. “So…about this, um, you know…”
“Marriage? Is that the word you’re searching for?”
“Yeah.” I don’t understand why he’s making this convo awkward. We should be on the same page.
When his lips quirk, my gaze dips to them, and a burst of heat explodes in my core as memories of what they felt like coasting over my body crash over me. It’s enough to leave me shifting on the couch.
When he tugs his bottom lip between sharp white teeth, a groan nearly escapes.
Ugh…how embarrassing would that be?
I force my gaze to his, only to find that an answering heat has sparked to life within his blue depths.
Muscles coiled tight, he leans forward, closing some of the distance between us. “Is there a particular memory from the weekend that you’d care to share? Because I have several.”
“No,” I squeak, mortified that he can read me with so much ease.
Or reduce me to a puddle of goo.
It’s demoralizing.
All right…so maybe I do understand. They don’t call him the baby-faced assassin for nothing.
Clearly, the nickname has been well earned.
Heat suffuses my cheeks. “Shouldn’t you be looking for a way out of this?” There’s a beat of silence before I add, “From what I’ve heard, you don’t even date. Or probably sleep with a girl more than once.”
Humor ignites in his eyes as he sits back again, lounging as if he’s a king on his throne. “So, you’ve been asking around about your new husband? Guess you’re not nearly as indifferent as you’d like me to believe.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You know what?”
I press my lips together. The question seems more rhetorical in nature than anything else.
“I kind of like being an old married man.”
My face scrunches. “Now that’s highly doubtful. Wouldn’t it crimp your overactive social life?”
He flashes a knowing grin before lifting his arms and stacking his hands behind his head. The movement makes his biceps pop beneath the sweatshirt he’s wearing. “Interested in that too, are we?”
This man’s cockiness knows no bounds.
If it weren’t aggravating, it would almost be impressive.
“No, I’m not.” I shift and force out the rest, wanting the comment to come across as nonchalant. “I’m just saying that married men don’t sleep with groupies.”
“Some do.”
My mouth tumbles open.
Before I can blast him into next week, he tacks on, “But you don’t have anything to worry about.” He gives me a wink. “I’m all yours.”
I release the air trapped in my lungs, unsure why we’re having this pointless conversation.
Although, that doesn’t stop me from firing back a few questions of my own. “Really? The guy who can’t keep his dick in his pants isn’t going to roam? Is that really what you’re telling me?”
His eyes glitter as he cocks his head. “Now why would I do that when I have a beautiful wife waiting for me at home?”
The heated expression sets off a chain reaction deep in my belly until it feels like I’m on the verge of incineration.
“We don’t live together.”
“Yet.”
The way he drops that little word feels more like a bomb that rocks my world to the very core.
“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, sounding as if I’m being choked from the inside out.
His arms drop to his sides as he scoots to the edge of his chair and leans forward, hinging at the waist as if seconds away from pouncing. “Does it really look like I’m joking?”
That’s the scary part.
The one that doesn’t make any sense.
The man looks dead serious.
It’s enough to have my mouth turning parched.
It takes effort to shake myself out of the spell he’s woven around me in the ten minutes we’ve been conversing. All I can say is that Colby McNichols is more dangerous to my well-being and sanity than I gave him credit for.
I hold up a hand, surprised to find it trembling. “I’ve done a little research about what we need to do to dissolve this marriage. It’s not difficult—”
“I did the same, and an annulment is out of the question.”
“Why?”
He raises a brow as a slow smile spreads across his face. I’m pretty sure the girl seated at the table behind us just gasped. “Maybe you don’t remember consummating our marriage the night of, but we certainly did the morning after.” There’s a beat of silence before he adds, “Right before you skipped town.”
“Stop saying that. We’re not married,” I growl, ignoring the dig.
“The great state of Nevada would claim differently.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to stay that way.”
“Unless we want it to.”
His words rob the air from my lungs as we stare at each other for a strained beat of silence. “What?”