Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Basically, I can take her down with a hand tied behind my back. Getting tied up with her isn’t such a bad idea. Tight little ass, perky tits. If I’m being stalked, at least it’s by someone I’d fuck.
I try to free those thoughts from my head, but if the opportunity presents itself, I might not say no. It’s been a while.
Okay, so the best approach is to subdue her until the cops arrive. But I swear to God, if she says she’s my number one fan, or I find a sledgehammer hidden behind the island, I’m out of here. I’ll streak through those woods bare-ass naked until I reach town.
Barreling around the corner, I yell, “What are you doing in my house?”
“Ah!” Startled, she gasps, grabbing at her heart and turning around so fast that she slips on the rug, sending the knife flying.
Oh shit.
It clatters to the floor as I rush over to see if she survived the fall. Murder wasn’t in the plan.
Her mouth is open, her gaze to the side stuck on the large blade that landed three inches from her face. She’s alive, but by how still her chest is, she’s not breathing.
Neither am I.
“Poppy?”
The back of her head rests on the floor, and she exhales a sigh of relief. “Oh my God, you scared me. That could have been bad.” Pushing down the skirt of her dress, she sits up, tucking her legs under her, and stares up at me.
Hazel eyes as bright as the day we met.
Hair escaping the elastic trying to tame it. I remember messing it up a few times in bed.
Those lips . . . those incredible lips that didn’t just kiss my mouth but made me believe in the afterlife.
I stand there, struck by her beauty, as something awakens in my chest.
“It’s okay. I’m good.” I hear the sarcasm in her tone, but it’s the voice that gets me, the one I never thought I’d hear again. She shoots me a harsh glare. “Don’t worry, I can get up on my own. Just because you snuck up and scared the crap out of me doesn’t mean you have to help me.”
Without a word, I shove my hand out to assist her.
“Thanks,” she says, pleased as punch to take it.
I finally figure out how to swallow again as I lift her to her feet in front of me. I don’t dare blink, fearing she’ll disappear again. I can’t reckon any sense into this situation. The puzzle of our past is still missing too many pieces.
She smiles, severing something hard inside me and releasing the pressure I didn’t know I was holding. Pulling her hand back, she laughs when I keep a hold on her. “Hi,” she says, shaking it instead.
“Hi,” I finally manage.
“Are you okay?” Is that gold in the center of her eyes? I remember more green.
“No. I—”
“I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” Her eyes dip to my chest, the slightest of lines tugging her brows together.
Just as she reaches up, I snap, “You think?” Letting her go, I step away, needing to put distance between us. My memories haven’t done her justice. She’s more beautiful than I remember. Damn. I regret never playing out a reunion scenario in my head, but being faced with it now, it wouldn’t have happened like this. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t understand.” Her eyes finally find mine again, and then she bends to pick up the knife, wielding it like a wand in front of her. “I was about to cook dinner.”
“What is happening?” She disappears from my life for years—not a word, no contact, no explanation whatsoever, but now she has the nerve to show up like I’ll just welcome her back into my life? Like she didn’t do irreparable damage the first time around, so now she’s back to finish me off?
“I was thinking pesto chicken with a side Caesar salad and some garlic bread.” Still swinging that blade around, she rattles on like she’s making any sense. “I didn’t know how hungry you’d be. It’s simple but a classic and always so good. You like pesto, don’t you? I didn’t see it on the list of dietary restrictions.”
Catching her wrist, I take the knife from her and set it on the counter. “You should be more careful.”
A jerk of her head is followed by offense coloring her cheeks. “I’m always careful.”
“I could argue otherwise.”
She raises an eyebrow and plants her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I offend you?” I turn and walk away.
“Actually, you did.”
Snatching my clothes that somehow made it from the floor to the arm of the couch, I start back toward the bedroom. My sole mission is to get out of here. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not staying here any longer, especially when she looks at me like a stranger.