Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
His skin tone was a nice golden tan that made me want to press my lips to each and every inch and explore.
I didn’t care that he was sweaty, either. I was convinced that it would only add to the tastiness of his skin.
“What do you think that tattoo says?” she whispered.
The tattoo on his back, I was assuming.
Words covered one entire shoulder, from his spine to his bicep. It stretched from the top of his trapezius muscle all the way down to where his rib cage stopped.
“I have no idea,” I breathed. “But I want to memorize each freakin’ letter with my lips and tongue.”
“Me, too,” she agreed wistfully. “I changed my mind. He may be bad, but at least for you he’ll be good.”
I swallowed hard when Shasha turned, cup to his mouth, and started heading back outside.
Holy abs.
The man had a lot of them.
And the short glimpse of the Adonis Belt I’d gotten the other day when his shirt had shifted was nothing to seeing it in its full glory.
Jesus Christ, the man was utter perfection.
He had no other tattoos on him other than the words on his back and the full sleeve on one arm.
I was kind of glad that he didn’t because of the way his body looked.
He had not six abs, or eight, but ten.
I could tell he was a big guy based on what he wore, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how tall, muscled, and breathtaking he was.
Holy. Shit.
He walked out the door with his paper cup without once glancing anywhere else, not catching me staring.
I was both relieved to find out that he’d missed me, and sad that we couldn’t have at least some form of connection.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe…
“I feel like I can’t breathe,” my sister repeated my thoughts.
“My thoughts exactly,” I agreed. “That man…”
“Is intense.” She turned and I was forced to look at her. “I need to get to work.”
I sighed. “Me, too.”
Well, I had about thirty minutes until I needed to be three minutes down the road, but I liked to get there early and get my lunch in the fridge before everyone else arrived—cough, cough, asshole ex, cough.
“Don’t tell our brothers about what we talked about today,” she grumbled as she gathered her cowboy hat up and placed it on her head.
She’d been wearing that damn hat for years.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, the hat meant something to her. That hat had been given to her by Kincaid McCall, her first boyfriend, her first ex, and her all-out rival on the ranch touching ours.
I picked my bag up, carefully caught my coffee cup, and headed out to the car with her.
When she went to her old dusty Chevy truck, I went to my dusty Jeep and threw everything over the back of my tailgate but my coffee and keys.
Without the doors on, you were really limited on what you left in the Jeep.
Pretty much, I had to bring it all in if I was going somewhere that people would swipe it without thought.
The coffee shop, though great, wasn’t in a really safe location.
Meaning, I couldn’t leave a thing in my car, no matter if I was sitting at a window booth within eyesight of it or not.
I’d just placed my coffee cup in my cup holder from the passenger side when a familiar voice called my name.
I nearly groaned.
I did squeeze my eyes tightly shut and prayed for patience.
When I was finished, I turned woodenly and stared at the man that had ruined my life all those months ago.
The man that I once thought would be my end game was now the villain in our story.
“What do you want, Rupert?” I asked quietly.
I was suddenly exhausted.
It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, and already I was having to deal with bullshit.
Rupert’s bullshit was worse than actual bullshit, too.
I’d rather be mucking out stalls at the ranch with my bare hands and using my shirt as a bucket than dealing with Rupert.
Yet, there I was, having to deal with him.
“I want to talk to you,” he explained, stepping closer.
With nowhere else to go but into my Jeep itself, I stiffened.
“I don’t want to talk to you, that’s why I’m avoiding your calls, texts, emails, and LinkedIn messages,” I grumbled.
“I just want to talk to you. Explain,” he pleaded.
I was just opening my mouth to tell him where he could shove that explanation when I was lifted.
The gasp left my mouth, and my hands automatically went to the sweaty shoulders in front of me.
I looked down into a pair of navy-blue eyes.
Shasha.
Fuck.
“You scared me,” I said to him, not struggling at all.
“Sorry,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to give me a ride to work.”
I opened my mouth to say “of course” but before I could, he kissed me.