Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
“Me too.”
He steps closer, cupping the back of my neck, careful not to mess up my hair, neatly captured with a silver barrette. His thumb presses firmly under my chin, tilting my head as he lowers his face to mine. I curl my arm around his neck as his lips ghost over mine. His minty breath washes over me and he sweeps his tongue between my lips, sliding it against mine. I let out a startled moan. He sweeps his hands down my back, clutching my hips like he can’t get enough of me and needs a reminder of how I feel under his fingers.
Somewhere behind us, I’m aware of a car pulling into the lot. We’re right at the corner of the house where anyone could see us as they pass by.
Jigsaw kisses the corner of my mouth, then along my jaw to the sensitive spot on my neck. He sharply pulls back as if yanked by a leash of restraint. “If I don’t stop now, I’m going to take you back upstairs…” he whispers, letting me fill in the blanks.
“I think I’d let you.”
He captures my hand, lifting it to his lips. Dusting a kiss against my knuckles while holding my gaze, silently communicating all the other places on my body he wants to kiss.
“I better go before Dad comes looking for me.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Damn, I need to run upstairs and grab my planner.”
His lips curve. “Go ahead. Let me watch you go inside.”
So protective, even though it’s broad daylight and we’re about to have a hundred people in and out of this house.
I nod to his bike. “Be safe.”
“Always.”
Flushed and flustered from our searing kiss I turn and head toward the back porch. Time to put on my professional mask. I can’t properly greet mourners with the lovesick grin of a giddy teenager plastered on my face.
“Margot?”
My entire body somehow freezes and recoils at the same time. A feeling I’ve only ever experienced with one man.
Daniel.
You have got to be shitting me.
His shoes scrape against the asphalt as he hurries to catch up to me. I force my face into something somber and professional. No matter how much I hate Daniel, I’m at work. He’s just another member of the public I have to interact with.
He stops in front of me and smiles like he has every right to my time and attention. Then his gaze travels over me from head to toe.
“You look…different.” His voice drips with the cold condescension I used to mistake for sophistication.
Different doesn’t sound like a compliment or even a normal thing to say to someone. Wait.
Did he see Jigsaw and me kissing? Is that why he’s making a face like a skunk pooped in his Cheerios?
I hold my breath—acutely aware of the stillness around us. The quiet of the neighborhood.
The absence of a certain Harley engine.
Behind me the air shifts. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Jigsaw’s aura of protection at my back. He rests his hand right above my butt and stands so close, we’re touching from shoulder to thigh, making it obvious he’s not some rando hanging out in the parking lot who just walked up and joined our conversation.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Daniel, although his perfectly tailored black suit should make the answer obvious—he’s attending the service.
When my father said Mrs. Penny lived in the same area as Daniel’s grandmother, I’d wondered if they’d been friends. I never expected Daniel to show up today, though.
His curious gaze flicks between Jigsaw and me.
My palms sweat. Should I introduce them? Jigsaw clearly isn’t going to introduce himself.
“I, uh…” Daniel swipes his hand through his hair. What’s wrong with him? I’ve never seen him…nervous? Is that what’s making him sweat? Jigsaw must be giving him a lethal dose of his death stare.
Good.
I swallow a giggle. Jigsaw could crack Daniel like a saltine if he wanted to and Daniel seems to know it.
“Mrs. Penny was a good friend of my grandmother’s,” Daniel finally explains. “I left a voicemail to let you know I’d see you…” He frowns at Jigsaw again.
“She’s been busy.” Jigsaw’s grave tone vibrates with the restraint of someone who wants to knock the man in front of him into next week.
My father must have gotten the message and not bothered to tell me. A warning would’ve been nice.
I don’t care about Daniel anymore, so why am I slightly stunned and paralyzed standing here talking to him?
Honestly, I’m grateful our relationship ended. Everything in my life right now is good and some of it wouldn’t have been possible if Daniel and I were still together. Like the man standing next to me.
The deadly expression on Jigsaw’s face is so intense as he stares Daniel down, I’m almost scared someone else has taken over his body. Is this the same man who so sweetly cuddled under the sheets, told me he loved me, and made me come so hard I heard angels sing this morning?