Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
17
DILLON
It’d been painful to ease myself out from under Macy, not just because of the contortion required. She’d needed the sleep, and I’d needed to get back to work. It hadn’t been an easy conversation to have, and I’d had a feeling I’d known exactly what the explanation would be as soon as I found the ID, but I’d known that I needed to have the conversation with her as soon as I could.
The fact was that I hadn’t been able to take not knowing more about her. Screwing her out in the woods had just reaffirmed to me that this thing between us was more than just a favor, and it was more than just sex, even if it was the best sex I’d ever had. And me being me, I’d known that I couldn’t just let things lie and let her open up to me in her own time, so I’d gone digging.
It hadn’t taken much effort to find the ID in her stuff, and the feelings that had flooded me as soon as I saw it had staggered me.
I’d long since started operating under the assumption that most people had something to hide, and that was especially true of women who had come from situations in which they’d been battered … but I couldn’t help feeling I’d been betrayed by her in some strange, subtle way.
I didn’t blame her. She’d hadn’t owed me or anyone else the truth when she’d escaped for her life. But that didn’t change the fact that I still wished she’d been able to tell me the truth about it.
I went over to my desk and started working again, trying to lose myself in the steady rhythms of the website securities I’d been able to find before. I was able to make it work, but I couldn’t stop thinking of the woman who slumbered on the couch behind me and what she’d revealed.
The thing was that I’d gone into her room because I’d wanted to see whether it would be safe for me to open up to her more. And on some level, I knew that it would be and that I should.
I would. I knew I had to. It would be better for everyone involved if I did.
I heard a groan from behind me and turned around to see that she was turning onto her back, her eyes fluttering open as she did.
“You’re up,” I said, turning back to my computer.
“Yeah—I’m not really sure what that was,” I heard her say as she fought back a yawn, climbing off the couch. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I asked, turning back around to look at her.
“Because we were in the middle of a conversation, and I fell asleep.” She was leaning forward over her knees and rubbing her eyes. For a second, I was tempted to go over to her and kiss her fully awake, but I held myself back.
“I think we covered the most important parts,” I said.
“If you say so.” I heard her stand up and go over to the kitchen, starting to look around. “Do you want some lunch?”
“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.” I gave her a smile. I already felt miles away from where we’d been this morning, but I also felt like I needed her to be sure of me and who I was.
She smiled back at me, the look tentative, before going into the kitchen and starting in on lunch. I heard her moving a few things around and starting the burner on the stove before I smelled the amazing aroma of cooking onions. My stomach growled in response, and I did my best to concentrate on my work for the next few minutes before I heard her say, “Come and geddit.”
I laughed as I put my computer to sleep and got up to head over to the island. “Come and geddit?”
“Do I sound like I’m from Tennessee yet?”
“Sorry to say it, but not even close.”
“Dammit.”
I edged up to the plates and practically started salivating when I saw the sandwiches she’d made, toasted bread with sliced roast beef, caramelized onion, melted cheese, and pickles on the side.
“These look amazing,” I said, taking my seat on the stool and digging in. As I took my first bite, I tasted the slight heat that sat on my tongue as an undercurrent and turned to her. “You used white buffalo sauce?”
She shrugged. “I tasted it and figured that it would go well with the beef.”
“Are you some kind of genius?”
She grinned at me. “I’m happy you like it.”
We ate for a little while, making small talk about our favorite restaurants and things to make. She told me about the epic failure of a cake she’d made for her mom a few years before, and I told her a little about the skillet cookies I used to make for Patrick for special occasions.