Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Marissa walked straight to her bed and fell face-first onto the mattress without taking off her shoes or setting down her cross-body purse.
Liam considered trying to help her remove them, but it seemed unnecessary. Better to leave well enough alone. “Marissa, is there a small trash can I could leave by the bed in case you get sick again?”
The only response he received was the soft sound of breathing. He took a moment to locate a tiny bathroom and retrieved the trash can, leaving it near her head. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need it, but better safe than sorry.
He glanced around with a sigh and an ache in his chest before making his way out of the room. Just as he was leaving, he heard a mumbled, “Tell Tate I’m sorry. He worries.”
“I will,” he whispered in response, though she seemed to fall right back to sleep.
With a heavy heart, he strode back down the hall toward the kitchen. The other hallway opposite Marissa’s room must lead to Tate’s room. His curiosity was at an all-time high, but he’d never invade Tate’s privacy by snooping without permission. Instead, he reached for his pocket to text the man and let him know Marissa was safe and sound only to come up empty.
“Right,” he muttered. “It’s still in the car.”
The door to the trailer flew open, and Liam jumped back about a foot. “Holy shit!” he yelped as his hand went to his racing heart.
Tate stood in the doorway wild-eyed and frantic. “Luxe?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Your mom’s okay,” he said as he rushed over to his man. “I got her settled. She’s sleeping it off.”
As soon as he reached Tate, the man pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace. “Fuck, I was freakin’ out.” He buried his face in Liam’s neck. “Are you okay? Did she… did she try anything?”
God, he hated to upset Tate with the things his mother propositioned, so he said, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I saw her walking, and she got sick on the side of the road. When she mentioned her son named Tate, I knew I had to help.”
“I don’t deserve someone as good as you,” Tate mumbled into his neck.
“Hey.” Liam grabbed a handful of hair at the back of Tate’s neck and tugged. When Tate lifted his head, Liam said, “I do not want to hear that horseshit, okay?”
Tate nodded. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Actually, if you think about it, I kinda lucked out. I get to see you earlier than I thought today.”
Tate didn’t take the bait and fire back with a sassy quip as he’d hoped. Instead, he stared deep into Liam’s eyes, wildfire in his gaze. “Fuck, Luxe, I want you. I want you all the damn time.”
“You have me, Tate.” Always. Anytime.
They kissed. It started out soft and gentle, a comfort to battle the stress of the afternoon, but it quickly turned heated. Tate’s hands went to his ass, squeezing and lifting. Liam got the message. He jumped up and wrapped his legs around Tate’s waist, locking his ankles behind Tate’s back. All that strength was sexy as hell. Tate stalked across the small kitchen until he could press Liam against the refrigerator.
“I need to fuck you,” Tate growled in his ear.
“I’d kick your ass if you didn’t.” They both laughed, then went back to devouring each other. Once his head was spinning and his dick hard as stone, Liam ripped his mouth away. “Take me to your—”
“Tate?” The door flew open so hard it banged against the wall. “Whit said Mom’s got some dude ov… oh fuck no!”
They froze.
Their gazes locked, and Liam saw resignation in Tate’s. There’d be no getting out of this one. No zipping up and pretending nothing happened. Liam swallowed hard and tried to prepare himself for the fallout—for Tate to wall himself off and go cold.
But instead, he leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to Liam’s lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I knew it,” Randy shouted as Liam unwound himself from Tate’s body. “I fucking knew it.”
His feet hit the floor, and Tate made sure he was steady before turning to face his brother.
Tate’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Randy, take a fucking breath,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Goddammit, I fucking knew some shady shit was going on between you two.” Randy spun around and stomped out of the trailer, shouting and cursing the whole way.
“Randy, calm the fuck down.” Tate marched after his brother with Liam hot on his heels.
Once outside, Randy paced a dusty strip across the dirt road, jamming a hand through his hair the same way Tate did when frustrated. He looked up and speared Liam with a glare that had his blood running cold. This was what Tate had warned him about.
What he’d feared all along.
“What the fuck have you done to him?” Randy’s ice-cold tone would have penetrated six layers of snow gear.