Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I step down, my hands shaking as I guide myself off the ladder. I turn, meeting him with a seething look. I wasn’t ready nor prepared to see him. Unable to control myself, I spit, “So, what? You called this off between us while you sat outside?” His eyes darken, but he doesn’t look away, his gaze unyielding as he nods. I don’t know why that makes me even more upset. “That’s super cute. Your book is by your chair. Excuse me while I work.”
He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. His eyes are on me, making me feel all kinds of things. Uncertainty, nervousness, irritation, and a fluttering feeling in my stomach that I’ve become accustomed to when I’m under his gaze. Anger bristles within me. “What are you doing here?” I ask. I should kick him out; it’s my shop.
“I couldn’t do it.”
“What?”
“I had to talk to you, face-to-face.”
I bring my brows in, confused. “You talked, I listened. We’re good.”
“No, we’re not,” he tells me, his eyes swirling with anxiety.
“I don’t get it. I don’t know what you’re doing here or even what you need to say. You’ve said enough.” He takes a step toward me, and I hold up my hands, stopping him mid-step. “Don’t.”
He swallows before licking his lips. My stomach clenches at the sight, remembering what it felt like to have that tongue on me. Jesus, how can I be thinking that when he doesn’t even want me? “Louisa—”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. Damn it, my heart is trying to escape my body. Honestly, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help asking, “Tell me this. Is it because of my scars?”
His eyes widen before he presses his lips together. “Louisa—”
“Don’t placate me. Be honest. Are you disgusted by me? Is that why—”
I don’t even realize he’s moving again before he’s in front of me. He reaches for me but stops, his eyes burning into mine. “Can I touch you?”
I shake my head. Tension cracks between us, and my heart is pounding so hard, it’s painful, but I refuse to stand down. I need to know the truth. I need to know I didn’t romanticize this. That he felt it all, just as I did. Even though it feels like every nerve ending is exposed, I have to know.
“Answer the question.”
CHAPTER 21
Ciaran
Tell me this. Is it because of my scars?
I’m not sure if it’s the question or the way her lips tremble that has me wanting to drop to my knees and grovel at her feet. Hell, it may be both, or maybe even everything that has transpired in the last twenty minutes. I was so wrong. I couldn’t control myself; I couldn’t keep myself in the truck when the line went dead and I watched her start sobbing. I couldn’t take it. I have to confirm I’m making the right decision—or determine if I’m getting in the way of my own happiness.
As I stand in front of her, I feel as if I am doing the latter. Ruining something before it can even get started. I hurt her, when that is the last thing I want to do. But for her to think I cut this off because of her scars? That pisses me off. I want to ruin the person who hurt her.
“I should be mad at you for even thinking that.”
Her eyes narrow, her cherubic cheeks filling with color as she tips her chin up at me. “Mad at me? Ha! Sure, buddy, whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.”
She’s incredible. “Channeling your inner brat?” I ask, trying to defuse her wrath, but I think I only make her madder. The furrow between her eyes deepens, and her eyes are dark, pure fire burning deep within. The silence is as menacing as her gaze. “Lou, there isn’t an inch of your body that I don’t want, scars and all. I want you. All of you.” The furrow releases a bit, but not fully. She leans into the ladder behind her, and I want to close the distance between us. I want to gobble her up and ease the error of my ways. “I have and probably always will think you are the most beautiful woman ever created.”
The only reason I know her bottom lip trembles is because I’m watching her lips. She tries to hide it by pressing her teeth into the plump flesh. I watch as her eyes flood with tears, and I hate myself for ever making her think it was her scars.
“I never meant to make you feel like that.”
She shrugs as she looks down to where she is toeing the floor. “Well, I went worst-case.”
“I wish I had done a better job of not causing that to happen.”
“I mean, you were honest.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t.”