Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“That’s different,” I agree. “Am I supposed to call you Matthew now?”
“You can, if you want. I’m not sure I want my woman to call me Mattie.”
“Your woman?”
“That’s what I said.”
“You’ve barely spoken to me since the night you kissed me, and now you think you can just call me your woman?” I scoff.
“I’ve barely spoken to you because I knew if I didn’t put some distance between us, I’d claim you before finding out anything about my past. I don’t think you understand how desperate I am for you, Doc.”
“You barely know me.”
“Indy—”
“It has been a while for me, but I’m pretty sure if you want to date a woman you don’t move out of the house and ignore her,” I point out, taking a bite of my ice cream.
“You made it clear I needed to find out if I had a woman waiting for me. I don’t, by the way.”
“You’re sure?”
“Devil seemed to know everything about me and had pictures of my family, so I’m fairly certain.”
“When are you going to tell your family you’re alive, or have you?”
“I wanted to hold off and just spend some time with you and Tinny. I’ll meet with them, but nothing sparked a memory tonight. I don’t want to look at them and admit that I have no idea who in the hell they are. I need time to prepare for that. I guess that sounds selfish,” he explains with a sigh.
“It sounds human. It’s really not fair, though. You may not know them, but they love you. They’re worried and grieving right now.”
“Can you give me a couple of weeks?”
“I don’t matter here. You’re the one that has to go meet with them, Breaker.”
“I want you with me when I go, Indy. I told you I wanted you. That’s not changing. I want you in my life. I know I don’t have much to offer you right now, but I’ll figure it out somehow.”
“It seems like a bad time for both of us. I don’t think I’m ready.” I let out a squeal when he grabs my chair, manhandles it and somehow pulls it out and picks me up with little effort at all. He remains sitting through it all, just using the brute muscle of his upper body as lifts me and pulls me into his lap. “Breaker!”
“Decided against calling me Matthew?”
“You don’t look like a Matthew. Breaker fits better. Are you going to let me sit in my own seat?”
“Not right now. If I don’t look like a Matthew, then what do you think my name should be?”
“Sam. You look like a Sam.”
“Sam? Seriously. That’s just a boring name.”
“No, it’s not. Haven’t you ever heard of Sam Elliot? That man radiated sex appeal. He could sigh and every woman around him would overheat, melting their panties simultaneously around the world.”
He stares at me like I’m insane. Heck, maybe I am. I mean, not about Sam Elliot, because every woman knows that’s true. Still, I’m still trying to understand how I feel about everything that Breaker is saying. My heart is running away with me, and I need time to process all of it. I’ve been preparing myself to say goodbye to him and now he’s saying he wants me to go to Kentucky when he meets his family.
“The only man who will be melting your panties will be me, Indy.”
“Don’t you need to go back to the bunkhouse or something?” I huff.
“Speaking of names, is your name really like the state—Indiana?”
I roll my eyes. “My name is Indy. My parents weren’t the best. Well, my father was the worst, mostly because he disappeared as soon as he discovered I was planted in my mother’s belly—a fact she never let me forget. My mother wasn’t the best, although she did take care of me until I graduated from high school, so I give her props for that. Because she’s a bitch and thought it’d be funny, she gave me the middle name Anna.”
“Yikes,” he laughs.
“Incidentally, Indiana was the state in which I was conceived, apparently under the bleachers of a high school football game. This is another fun-loving story my mother loved to tell everyone.
“She sounds like the life of the party.”
“If the party is in hell, sure,” I respond drolly.
“Could I interest you in sharing a bed with me tonight?” he asks out of the blue.
“Um … I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“What if I promise to keep all my clothes on and do nothing but hold you all night?” I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll be on my best behavior. I just had a really stressful day, and I’ve missed the hell out of you, Indy.”
“You promise your clothes stay in place?” I question. He nods his agreement. “You’ll stay on your best behavior—not even a hand venturing where it shouldn’t?”