Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Your dad doesn’t have to like it,” she reminds me carefully.
I bite my bottom lip as the idea settles. Construction has been my destiny for as long as I can remember. Dad always talked about us going into the family business, and as a dutiful eldest son, I just did what he expected, especially after Mom died. I didn’t want to be a burden to him or cause him disappointment in any way. But although I get a lot out of physical exertion, the building industry doesn’t light my fire.
It’s profitable. At the end of the day, it gives us a good life. There’s never been a time when we’ve been short of money. My dad isn’t an educated man, but he’s a skilled builder and he understands people. All our clients love us. We never advertise because we get so much recommended business that we can never take it all on.
Could I do something else?
What would it feel like to wake up in the morning and not put on my work trousers and steel-toed boots? I’ve gotten so accustomed to this way of life; I can’t even comprehend what doing something else would look like.
I tell Gabriella that and she reaches out to touch my arm. “I know you love your dad, and you want to make him happy. That’s admirable, Dalton. That shows respect and empathy. It shows that you’re grateful for his sacrifices. Maybe, if he had a choice to do something else, he would have ended up in a totally different career. Have you ever thought of that?”
“I guess that makes it worse. He didn’t have a choice.”
“So now you have to reject the fact that you do?”
I lean back in my chair and press my lips between my teeth.
Gabriella eats another mouthful and rolls her eyes with pleasure, underlining her argument. “You know, I’ve made this stew so many times with my mom and without her, but somehow yours tastes better.”
“I added a little more ale and a teaspoon of brown sugar to give it more richness,” I admit.
“Really? Where did those ideas come from?” She points her fork at me like she wants to accentuate the point she is making.
“I just made it up.”
“Because you have a talent. An instinct.”
I settle back into eating, using the time it takes to chew to absorb Gabriella’s suggestion more fully. Could I do it?
And then I realize that’s not the question I should be asking. Do I want to do it is the right question.
When we’re done with the food, I take Gabriella up to my room, where she immediately tries to climb me like a tree, but I need time to digest. Instead of fucking her, I tuck her into my bed and put on a comedy special, wanting us to watch something lighthearted together. I want to hear her laugh and build a connection outside of just sex.
She initially seems wary, but eventually snuggles into my chest.
The show is hilarious, and it feels so good to relax in Gabriella’s company. The deal wasn’t supposed to encompass any of what we’ve done tonight, but I don’t feel bad for pushing the boundaries of our arrangement. What I want from Gabriella is way more complex than just a fuck buddy relationship.
I know that I shouldn’t add complexity to this situation. Travis’s face pops into my head as her hand works its way beneath my shirt and caresses the ridges of muscle on my belly.
But everything we’re doing is wrong. Adding a little date-night sauce onto a sex ice cream doesn’t seem capable of making the current situation much worse.
And the fact that Gabriella isn’t running out the door tells me she’s okay with it, too.
When the comedian takes his bow, I flip her onto her tummy and give her what she wants, holding her down while I take her apart piece by piece and then put her back together again.
17
GABRIELLA
“The music is electric tonight,” Celine yells, her right arm pumping the air like she’s pulling a whistle on an old steam locomotive.
“Yeah. Apparently, the DJ’s a freshman with some awesome skills.” I yell back, dancing and trying to focus on enjoying the moment. The Red Devil has always been my favorite bar, and we always have a great time here, but tonight I feel under pressure to be bubbly, as though I’m putting on a front. I can’t resist the urge to scan the far corners, hunting for three specific men. The pull they have on me makes me feel weak, an emotion I’m wholly uncomfortable with.
Over Celine’s shoulder, I spy some movement by the bar. Ellie has arrived, with Colby, Sebastian, and Micky. Behind them, Dornan, and some of the football team lumber in, blocking the entryway until one of the doormen barks at them to move inside.