Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Maeme winked at me. “Right on time.” Then, she cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted, “We’re in the sunroom!” When she glanced back at me, she patted my arm. “He sounds worked up because you weren’t where he’d left you. That’s a good thing.”
I wanted to believe her. Loving King and my need for him seemed to morph into something even more powerful now that I knew I had our child growing inside of me. I felt … clingy. Having him with me soothed me. It gave me reassurance that he was always going to be there. That even though I was holding a secret that would change his life as he knew it, he would want me. Want us. The fear that it would push him away, however, was there, keeping me from letting myself hope for more. Believe that he’d one day love me too.
King stalked through the doorway, his gaze swinging to meet mine. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.
I nodded. I was now. He was here.
“Yes. I just came to see Maeme,” I told him.
“And I’m making waffles. It’s your lucky day,” she informed him.
His eyes barely glanced in her direction before coming back to me. “Then, something is wrong,” he stated, his eyes now narrowing as he took three long strides until he was in front of me. Cupping the side of my face, he studied me closely. “What is it?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I have company, and I want to make waffles. Stop acting ridiculous,” Maeme said, but my eyes were on him. Soaking him in.
I almost pressed my cheek into his hand, aching for his touch. His security.
“I’m sorry I am just now getting back,” he said, his eyes dropping to my lips. “I wanted to be with you.”
“It’s okay,” I breathed.
He was here now. I had him with me.
“I’ll go start breakfast,” Maeme said, but King didn’t look back at her or even acknowledge her words.
I wanted to thank her as she walked away, but with him looking at me like I was his breakfast, I found myself so mesmerized that I couldn’t say anything. I was lost in King. His touch. His gaze. Being with him.
“I didn’t like coming back to my room and you not being in my bed,” he said as he ran his thumb over my mouth. “I fucking hate that you got in a truck with Thatcher.”
I let out a soft sigh. “He just gave me a ride.”
King shook his head, then lowered his head until his lips brushed the corner of mine. “Don’t care. I hate it. I should have been there. You need something, and I take care of it.”
I was a puddle on the floor—or at least it felt like it. I was on the verge of weeping—again—and throwing myself into his arms and begging him not to go this weekend, which I knew he had no control over.
“You’re here now,” I said before his mouth covered mine.
I slid my hands up his arms, wanting to pull him closer. A low groan vibrated his chest, and every nerve in my body responded. Shivering in response, I savored his taste. The powerfulness of how he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him until our bodies were pressed against each other, eased all the worries fighting for the number one spot in my head. He was here. This was enough.
“After waffles, we are going back to the stables,” he said against my lips, then began to kiss a path down my neck. “I’ve got to stay buried in you until I leave. It’s the only way I’m going to survive this.”
I arched my neck, giving him better access. “We still have two days.”
He paused, and although it was brief, it brought me out of the haze he’d been putting me under. The warmth of his breath heated my neck, and normally, that would cause me to tremble and sink further into the moment. But I felt it. The change in him. There was nothing good coming from that.
“I have to leave in the morning,” he said gruffly.
I stilled. An ache already forming in my chest at the idea of him being gone.
“Why?” I asked, trying not to sound as pathetic as I felt.
More days with her. Alone. The two of them pretending.
“Orders. They want her out of town,” he explained, his tone tight.
My hands slid to his chest, and I found myself grabbing handfuls of his shirt, as if I had the power to hold him. Keep him from going with just my strength alone.
“I hate this,” he ground out.
“Me too,” I managed to say, although the tightness currently squeezing my neck like a vise made it hard to say anything.
“Fuck,” he growled as his arms completely wrapped around me and held me against his chest.