Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
The uncomfortable silence that follows that question is nothing short of deafening.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carina
Ford’s fingers absently play with mine as we drive to Crawford’s house for our usual Wednesday night dinner. He’s been toying with them ever since he pulled out of the apartment building parking lot.
And I’ve let him because I love it.
As soon as that sly thought sneaks into my brain, I wince.
I don’t want to get used to the way he touches me.
Or come to expect it.
Only to be disappointed when he moves on.
Ever since last Thursday, he’s been sneaking over after Juliette hits the sheets and staying the night.
We have sex. The first time is always quick and dirty.
Mr. playboy manwhore who has slept with his share of the co-eds on this campus can’t seem to control himself. The only reason I don’t tease him mercilessly is because no matter how fast he orgasms, I always come as if on command.
It’s demoralizing.
Afterward, he’ll huff out a breath and rest his forehead against mine before apologizing, muttering something about how he doesn’t understand why he isn’t able to last longer and how unusual this is.
Ha! Whatever you say, quick draw McGraw.
My sympathetic nods and pats on the shoulder are not appreciated. The way he frowns and narrows his eyes as color stains his cheeks is kind of hilarious.
Most of the drive has been made in silence. Every once in a while, he turns his head just enough to watch me from the corner of his eye. I can almost hear the questions churning in his brain. I keep my lips tightly pressed together because I don’t have the answers he’s looking for.
I’m just as confused about our situation as he is.
Tension continues to ratchet up between us until it becomes stifling. It’s a relief when we pull into the gated subdivision with its sprawling mansions. Every property is perfectly maintained and manicured with trees that dot the rolling landscape.
The first time Mom drove us through the imposing iron gates and I caught a glimpse of our new home, I was worried that Crawford wouldn’t be interested in Mom’s baggage.
Namely, me.
But nothing could have been further from the truth.
Mom is no longer the person I call when I need advice or when something amazing happens.
Crawford is. He’s become that stabilizing figure I spent my childhood searching for.
Ford squeezes my fingers, drawing me out of those thoughts. “Are you all right? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
I force a smile, unwilling to share the concerns that eat at me. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
More questions fill his eyes as he pulls into the driveway. As we near the two-story stone structure, my gaze lands on a sleek black Audi that I don’t recognize.
“Who do you think that is?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s weird,” I mutter. “Usually, it’s just the three of us at these dinners.”
“Maybe there’s a new girlfriend.”
I shoot him a look of horror. “What? Has he been seeing someone? Do you have insider info that I don’t?”
Ford’s lips quirk as he flashes a smile. “Not that I know of. Don’t worry, you’ll always be his best girl.”
I roll my eyes and glare. That only makes him chuckle.
When Mom and Crawford announced their divorce, I was terrified he’d find someone to quickly replace her and whoever the woman was would be less than tolerant of having his ex’s college-aged daughter hovering about. The one time he did bring a potential girlfriend around, she made no bones about asking why I was still part of his life. Crawford told her in no uncertain terms that I was his daughter and then promptly dumped her fancy ass.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved in my life.
We exit the sports car and meet around the hood. When Ford holds out his hand, I stare at it for a few heart pounding seconds.
Another smile twitches around the corners of his lips. “Are you afraid my dad is standing at the windows, watching us?”
Kind of.
Even though my stepfather has never come out and said anything specific, I get the feeling that he wouldn’t be pleased with this new development.
As much as I want to resist the offer, my hand drifts to his until his fingers are able to wrap around mine, clasping them firmly as if he’ll never let go.
A teeny tiny part of me doesn’t want him to.
“Was that so difficult?”
“You have no idea.”
He snorts and pulls me up the wide stone staircase to the eight-foot-tall mahogany door. As soon as he throws it open, I slip my fingers from his grip. He smirks as I glance around the entryway for Crawford. Normally, he’s in his home office and comes out to greet us as soon as we arrive. I peek in the study only to find it empty.
Which is…odd.
As I swing around, my stepfather’s laughter rings out from the family room off the kitchen.