Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
His voice is husky. “I thought we could go slow. My hand is here if you want to hold it.”
This can’t be natural the way my body reacts to just the thought of holding his hand. It’s crazy, but sure enough, my nipples harden, and there’s a pull in my lower belly. I whisper back to him, “You want to hold my hand?”
There’s humor in his eyes. “Yeah, peaches. I want to hold your hand.”
The nickname surprises me, and I want to ask him about it, but I’m thinking too much about the fact I’m about to hold his hand that I can’t even begin to process a question to him about it.
I slowly move my hand across the cushion, and when I’m almost touching him, I stop, and all I can do is stare. Don’t get me wrong. I want to hold his hand, but just the thought has me freaking out, but not the normal way. At least what’s normal for me. I’m not fearful or anxious. I’m not upset about it or wanting to avoid it; it's more of an overwhelming anticipation.
I huff out a breath as my hand trembles next to his. “You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”
He flexes his fingers, and I can’t take my eyes off his strong, long-fingered hand. “Why would I think that?” he asks.
I lick my lips and look at him. “Because it’s just holding hands. It’s not that big of a deal.”
He sounds casual and not the least bit judgmental about it. “To some people it is.”
I hesitate, wishing I had the nerve to reach for him. As I sit here and silently debate with myself, he says, “You know, we’re not so different, Haven.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know you had your mom and dad but not really. Not the way you needed them anyway. I was raised in foster care. Home after home, I made a point of keeping my guard up everywhere I went. I have trust issues, and there are still things that haunt me to this very day.”
I put one hand to my chest. “Oh, King. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“There were times I wanted to cut myself off from everyone, and I tried that. I was lucky, though. I was thirteen when I was put in a foster home with my four foster brothers and my foster sister. Hell, I feel bad calling them that. They’re my family… they are my brothers and sister. If it wasn’t for them, I’m not sure what would have happened to me.”
I turn to the side, facing him, resting my head on the back of the couch. The movie continues to play, and it’s almost over, but it’s forgotten as I ask him, “Will you tell me about them?”
He turns toward me, but I notice he leaves his hand open between us. “You really want to hear about them?”
“Of course I do.”
He seems to think about it. “Well, I’m the oldest.”
I ask without thinking, “How old are you?”
He smirks at me. “Forty.”
I nod, quickly doing the calculations in my head. As if I didn’t figure it out on my own, he tells me, “I’m fifteen years older than you.”
He pauses and then continues. “Holden and Gabriel are brothers. Holden’s a baseball player for the Jasper Bears. Gabriel is a firefighter in Whiskey Run. Ledger is in the military, but he’s supposed to be retiring soon. Dominic is a mechanic in Whiskey Run, and Chrissy is a nurse at Jasper Hospital, but she lives in Whiskey Run too.”
I point to his face. It’s something to see the way his face changes when he’s talking about his family. “You light up when you talk about them.”
The gold specks in his eyes are sparkling. “I love them.”
“That’s good, King. I’m glad you had them.”
His voice is calm and steady. “I got off track. All that is to say that I know what it’s like to be afraid to put yourself out there. I know what it feels like when you think the whole world is against you and you’re not sure what tomorrow is going to bring… that’s all. So yeah, holding hands is a big deal… I know it is, and there’s no pressure. I just want you to know I’m here… if you want to try it… I’m here, that’s all.”
He searches my face and breaks me with what he says next. “I’m sorry no one was there for you, Haven. I’m sorry that you’ve spent all this time dealing with things on your own. You didn’t deserve that.”
He lets out an anguished breath, and it’s like I can feel how important this is to him. I can’t help but wonder if he puts this much effort into all his clients, but a part of me refuses to believe it. I want to feel special to him, even if I’m not.