Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
“Don’t care if you work for the pope.” Row let go of the businessman, who fell to the floor, letting out a small screech. “Get the hell out of here.” He turned to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You okay, Dot?”
I nodded, flushed and grateful and still a little distraught. “They work for the guy who is buying the land from you?”
“Apparently. But I don’t know them.” He raked his hands over my face and hair, as if taking inventory. They were shaking a little, but so was I. What were we doing, pretending like this could end in anything but heartbreak?
“Row, I’m okay. Rude customers are nothing new to me.” I laced my arms around his neck, itching to kiss him but reminding myself that this was just a fling.
“You have to change jobs,” he concluded.
I laughed. He didn’t, his nostrils flaring ruefully. Oh. He was serious. “I’m not changing jobs.”
“Why not?”
“The tips are great.”
“Become a stripper. The tips will be better.”
“How will becoming a stripper be better?” My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
“I’ll be your only client. The pole will be in my room.”
A giggle ripped from my throat. “Be serious!”
“I am serious. I’ll throw in great dental insurance. At least think about it.”
Rhy materialized behind us. “Taking the trash out. Be right back.” He put one hand on each of the men’s shoulders, escorting them through the door. He had seven inches and a hundred pounds minimum on each of them, and looked like a bodybuilder picking up his toddlers from school.
“So…” I bit down on my lip.
He raised his eyebrows.
“You called me your girlfriend.”
“Right.” His sharp cheekbones stained pink, and he dipped his head to hide his embarrassment. “Wanted to scare them off. Did I do the same to you?”
“I’m not scared,” I lied. I was petrified. And not just because of the word but also because of how I’d felt when he’d said it. Like he’d put a crown on my head.
“Yeah?” His face softened.
“Yeah. In fact, I’m the opposite of scared. What would that be?”
“Brave.”
I swiped my tongue over my lower lip. “Sounds about right. I’m feeling pretty brave recently.” With you around. “But…Row?”
“Yes, Dot?”
“I wasn’t in your plans.”
“Plans change.”
“People don’t, though.”
“I don’t know about that. I think the good ones do. It’s called growth.”
He drew a ragged breath and opened his mouth, about to say something more, then clamped it shut, like he’d thought better of it. “I have a call with Blackthorn after service ends. Wait up? I’ll make you dinner and we can stay at the inn.”
“Deal.”
CAL
“All That She Wants”—Ace of Base
I hated Tate Blackthorn.
Okay, fine. I didn’t actually know him, but it was half past midnight and Row was still on the phone with him in his office upstairs. The kitchen was the kind of squeaky clean where you could eat off the floor. Pans and pots gleamed, the air-conditioning was on full blast, and the only audible sound was the loud humming from industrial fridges.
After I slipped out of my work clothes into a pink, wooly dress, I allowed myself to sit on the butcher block counter, dangling my feet. Sweaty, tired, and in desperate need of one more drink, I scrolled on my phone through old notes I’d made for murder-mystery podcast episodes that I’d never had the courage to record.
There was a good chance Row was going to kill me. My ass was on the surface where he made ludicrously expensive, microscopic food. In my defense, there was nowhere else to sit. His face was nowhere in my vicinity, there were no chairs, and the dress was brand-new.
“Sorry it took long.” Row waltzed in, slapping the door open and moving toward me with the sleekness of a feline zeroing in on his prey.
“Heyyy. How was the phone ca—” I was about to jump off the counter but stopped cold when he cut into my words.
“About the attitude you’ve been giving me ever since you returned to Staindrop.”
“Yes?” I blinked innocently, heart almost thundering out of my chest and humping his leg.
“I’m about to fuck it out of you.”
He rounded the pastry station and slid between my thighs, making me spread my legs wider to accommodate him. I was surprised I could still breathe. The heat rolling off his body alone made my mouth water and my skin buzz with excitement.
“I—uhm, if you must.” I tried to downplay my own desire for him.
“I’m afraid I must. Permission to push your limits?” he asked, and I loved that he did. That he put my consent above all else.
I nodded, my chest expanding with fuzzy heat. “Granted.”
“How far?”
“The farthest.” I was feeling reckless and full of bravado, secure in the knowledge he would never ever hurt me.
“Your safe word is bumfuzzle,” he informed me. Rather than fear, all I felt was excitement.