Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Holden’s there. His hair is wet from a shower, and he’s in faded work jeans that mold around his ass perfectly. His broad shoulders fill out that blue T-shirt, and I see that he has a flannel draped over the back of a kitchen chair.
When he turns, his devastatingly blue eyes narrow and sweep over me, as if he’s memorizing me, and then he smiles.
“Good morning.”
“’Morning,” I reply. “Thanks for taking me to bed.”
My eyes widen as I realize what the hell I just said.
“I mean—”
Holden laughs and lifts a coffee mug to his lips. “I know what you mean. You’re welcome. You were out cold.”
“What time did I fall asleep?”
“Before eight.” His smile falls. “You were tired, baby girl.”
“It was a crazy day.” I shrug a shoulder and try not to think about my dad glaring at me and the silence from the rest of my family. My heart hurts.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asks.
“Nah, I’ll grab some at work. I have some tumblers if you want to take it with you.”
“We have a pot in the barn,” he replies. “It’s always full.”
He crosses to me and brushes his fingertips over my jaw before he holds on to my throat in that way he does that makes my murder hornets start to buzz. He held me like this before, too. Like he’s possessing me, claiming me, and I should probably pull away, but I can’t.
“You okay?” His thumb brushes along the underside of my jawline, and I can’t help but stare at his lips. My husband has amazing lips. “Mill?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay today?”
“Oh, yeah. My heart’s a little bruised, but I hope my dad will come around.” Honestly, it’s more than bruised. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and the way he looked at me yesterday broke my heart into a million pieces.
“He will. Like I said, he just needs some time. I have to get going, but I won’t be late today. Do you have a full day?”
We’re standing in my kitchen, having the most domestic of conversations, like any married couple. Except, his hand is wrapped around my throat, sending signals to my core that should not be sent, and I want to lick him from head to toe.
“Baby?”
“Sorry.” His eyes are full of humor, and I can’t help but scowl. He knows exactly what he does to me. I lick my lips, and all humor flees from his eyes as they lower to my mouth. At least this lust isn’t one-sided. “I’m interviewing some girls today, but I’ll be done around three.”
He nods, then leans into me and brushes his lips over my cheek to my ear.
Oh, God, my knees buckle when he does this part.
“Have a good day, wife.”
And with that, he lets go and walks away, grabs his boots and hat, and then the door shuts behind him, and I have to cover my chest with my hand to try to quiet down the murder hornets and my beating heart.
Why do I have to be married to a goddamn heartthrob?
Aside from our wedding day, he hasn’t kissed me. Not really kissed me. He’s touched me and flirted and brushed his lips over mine, but it’s likely for the best that he’s keeping his delicious, addictive lips to himself, although part of me is disappointed.
No kissing isn’t one of my rules.
“Get over yourself,” I mutter as I grab my bag and keys and then lock the house up behind me as I walk into town.
It’s not supposed to rain today, and my coffee shop is only about six blocks away, so an early-morning, brisk walk feels good. Spring has definitely sprung, and the trees are budding with fresh green buds. Daffodils and tulips smile lazily from fence lines, and the air just smells good.
It’s almost time for my favorite time at the ranch: branding and taking care of the spring calves. I love the hard work of it, getting out there in the pen, roping, and vaccinating.
My footsteps stumble when it hits me that I might not be invited out to help this year. Not that I’ve ever needed to be invited before. It’s my home. It’s who I am.
But I’m not welcome there anymore, and it makes the bruise around my heart ache. Did yesterday even really happen? Did my entire family stand there and stare at me with so much contempt and disappointment?
Okay, that’s not fair. It was mostly Dad and Remington who were the worst. Chase wasn’t a lot better. Mom was confused, if nothing else. And everyone else was…quiet. Brady and Ryan tried to be the voice of reason, but my dad is the patriarch of the family, and what he says goes.
And until yesterday, that was okay because he’s always been a good, kind, strong, honorable man. And now, I’m not welcome at the only true home I’ve ever known.