Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
That’s not entirely true, but it’s the essence of it if it were all boiled down.
“Are you having second thoughts?” she asks, holding her breath.
I stroke her back with my fingers, appreciating her delicate dips and curves. “I’m having second thoughts that I let you fall asleep without being inside you.”
She laughs against my side, placing a kiss on my ribs.
“What about you? How do you feel?” I ask.
“Sore.”
“I like you sore.”
“I like being sore.” She traces the tattoos on my arm. “Tell me about these.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Do they mean anything?”
I bend my arm, and Chloe points at an owl tattoo near my elbow.
“That was given to me by a good friend in London. Owls mean wisdom, and he always jokes about me being wise. But that’s only because I’ve saved him from marrying the wrong woman and potentially a serial killer—in separate incidents,” I say.
She lifts her head. “I need details.”
“Let’s get into those stories later,” I say, chuckling.
She makes a face but settles back beside me once again.
“This one is for a friend I lost in my first military battle,” I say, pointing down to the next tattoo. “We called him Root, so I got a tree.”
“I’m sorry you lost a friend.”
“I’ve lost many friends.” I pull her tighter. “But we honor the fallen by living.”
Chloe seems to want to say something but decides to move on instead. I’m thankful. While memories of my friends are good things to have, discussing them carries a sense of sadness. And I don’t want anything spoiling this moment with her.
“What about this one?” she asks, tracing a birdcage on my forearm.
“That’s a reminder that there’s always a way out. If you can’t open the door, break through the bars. But there’s always a way out.”
She touches a simple script. “And this one?”
“All of my brothers have that one. A B for Brewer. It was Tate’s twenty-first birthday, and the five of us were out together, which is a rarity. Tate had a little too much tequila and was emotional. The next thing I know, we’re at a tattoo shop.” I laugh. “Tate wanted us to get a knot that looked like a testicle.”
Chloe laughs, too.
“But we teamed up against him and settled on a letter instead.”
“I think that’s cool. If I had siblings, I hope we’d be as close as you are with yours. It’s like you always have a friend.”
“It wasn’t always this way. I couldn’t stand Tate most of his life.” I shrug, thinking back to his teenage years when I thought he was the goofiest kid on the planet. And not in a good way. “And Gannon still annoys the hell out of me most of the time. But I think it comes with age, you know? You care less about those irritations and more about the big picture.”
“Maybe when I’m old like you, I’ll be more introspective like that.”
I grab her, making her squirm. Her giggles almost get her fucked, but I hold back since she’s sore. Four rounds in one night are probably enough … for her. I’ll never get my fill of this woman.
“So is there anything you want to do in Vegas?” I ask.
She shakes her head. The blanket covering her slides down until it nests in the small of her back.
“It’s not like I had much time to think about it, but no,” she says. “It’s nice just being away, honestly. What about you?”
“I’m supposed to have a meeting later this morning.”
“That’s right. You were coming here anyway.”
I nod. “If I had an EA that wasn’t naked beside me, I’d have her cancel it.”
A worried look passes through her eyes.
“I’m kidding.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll cancel it myself as soon as it’s a respectable time.”
“I can do it.”
“Not if you like your job.”
She grins. “What’s that supposed to mean? ”
“It means I’ll fire you if you try to work on your honeymoon, Mrs. Brewer.”
Her fingers dance over my skin, spraying goose bumps on my arms. “I think you should go.”
“What?”
“Go,” she insists. “Our lives still have to continue, and I know that meeting was important. I’ll be fine by myself for a few hours. I’ll check in on Mimi and take a bath. Really. Being alone for a little while sounds glorious. Do you know the last time I was by myself? With a bathtub that doesn’t leak onto the floor?”
I blow out a breath, considering her questions because my instinct is to be here with her. But the more I think about it, the more I realize she’s probably right. She’s with me at the office all day, and then Mimi in their cramped apartment at night. She probably does want some time alone. I’d lose my mind if I didn’t have time by myself to decompress.