Sunday Morning (Sunday Morning #1) Read Online Jewel E. Ann

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Sunday Morning Series by Jewel E. Ann
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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It took us a while to navigate the holiday weekend traffic, but when he pulled into the parking lot, I squealed and covered my mouth. “Opryland!”

Isaac chuckled. “I take it you approve?”

I kept my hands fisted at my mouth, shaking with excitement. He pulled into a parking space, and I couldn’t get out of my seat belt fast enough to slide across the bench seat and onto his lap.

“What are you⁠—”

I cut him off with a kiss.

And another.

And another.

He laughed when I settled down a fraction.

“You’re right. We’ll use all seven,” I declared.

“No.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing my hips to move me off his lap.

When he hopped out, I grabbed my purse and made my way to his side as he locked the doors.

“So now you don’t want to do it?”

He shut the door and slid on his sunglasses. Then he linked a single finger with mine and led me toward the entrance. “Stop using sex as currency. All right? We’ll have it when you want to have it for no other reason than you want to have it.”

I didn’t know what to say as I lagged a few steps back.

He stopped to let me catch up. “Nope. You don’t get to pout at Opryland.”

I wrinkled my nose when he pressed his fingers to the corners of my mouth to make me smile. “Stop.” I laughed.

“That’s better.” He linked his finger with mine again, and we continued toward the entrance.

We stood in line behind a man who looked close to my dad’s age, or even older, and a girl who was either his daughter or his granddaughter. She seemed just as excited as me, beaming with a twinkle in her eye when she glanced in our direction. Then the guy put his arm around her, which was fine until his hand drifted to her butt, and he gave it a few playful taps before rubbing circles on it and ending with a little squeeze.

My eyes swelled into saucers, and I peered up at Isaac, who was watching the same thing. The guy pulled her in for a hug and then ducked his head to kiss her on the lips—with tongue.

I bit my lips together to keep from gasping. Isaac clenched his teeth like he was upset more than disgusted.

When we paid for our tickets and entered the amusement park, I faced him. “Thoughts?”

He shook his head while putting the change in his wallet, but he didn’t look at me. “Let’s go. What do you want to ride first?”

That was it.

Then it hit me. Maybe he knew about his dad and Brenda, but I couldn’t ask him.

“That was gross.” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

He didn’t respond as we stood in front of a map of the park.

“Do you think it’s his wife? Girlfriend? Mistress? Not that I’m one to talk since I’m here with you, which makes me the worst kind of girlfriend.”

“Then why’d you come?” he snapped.

I took a step away, eyeing him as I felt the sting of his words and the grit of his tone in my chest.

He continued to stare at the map for a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose and bowing his head with a long exhale. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He knew. That was the only explanation for his outburst. That couple triggered him, and he took it out on me. And suddenly, I felt homesick.

My parents didn’t know where I was.

My friends were camping, laughing, and not getting yelled at by hot-tempered men.

In a matter of seconds, my happy bubble burst, and I just wanted to go home.

Before my childish emotions escaped, I blotted the corners of my eyes and swallowed past the lump in my throat. But I wasn’t a child. I was an adult dealing with a big dose of reality and the consequences of my decisions.

“Sarah—”

“Let’s ride the Wabash Cannonball,” I murmured, heading in the direction of the roller coaster.

“Sarah, I said I’m sorry.” He followed me, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away.

“Let’s not do this.” I stuck my hands in my pockets.

We spent the afternoon at the park, and after grabbing chicken fingers and fries, we headed to the motel to get ready for the show. I felt Isaac’s gaze on me nonstop; even when he was driving, he kept glancing over at me.

“What do I have to do to make this right?” he asked, tossing his keys onto the nightstand when I entered the motel room.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I shrugged and deflated. “I feel like I messed up. I shouldn’t be here. I just …” I shook my head and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve felt out of control since the day you sat in the back of the church on Easter Sunday. And while you make me feel like anything is possible when I’m with you, I also feel like I’m disappointing everyone else around me. I’ve spent too many years trying to please people. And when I do something that I know will not please anyone but me, I feel selfish, and the guilt is unbearable.”


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