Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Even after he died, I sought to punish him. Punish his name and everything he stood for. Punish him through me. To confide in Fee would only bring her pain. Ardeo is a big enough obstacle for her—for us—to get over. At the moment, she thinks the club is just a New York gig, not the worldwide entity it is.
But I’ll walk away from it all tomorrow just to be with her.
If she’ll have me.
What the fuck am I thinking? Of course, she’ll have me. The answer is in the way she’d put the island between us on Sunday because she can’t trust herself. It’s in the way her cheeks burned red, and her eyes turned black, their dilation almost stealing that golden edge. It was in her fingers twitching by her sides, though probably against the notion to choke me. But I’d take that reaction over indifference.
Anger is heat. It’s passion. It’s lips I can peel from her teeth, replacing them with my own. It’s whispered chastisements as she rides me hard. It’s future fucking in the laundry room while the kids are eating breakfast next door. It’s a lifetime of passion. Of trials and tribulations. It’s love in perpetual action.
For Fee, I know there’s been no one else but me. No one insider her since me. That means something, and even if that something is because she’d told herself she was waiting for the right man to come along. Her one. Her forever. That’s fine.
Because I was the one she chose Saturday. She shared her secrets, and she chose my hands to hold her safe as she unravelled. As she came undone.
That shit counts for something.
I’m her one. Even if she doesn’t know it yet, even if I have to make her see.
Starting tonight, I’ll be her shoulder to cry on, the voice of reason after she discovers her new apartment has fallen through. It didn’t take much to fuck up her plans, though I’d initially considered a move might be a good one. I could’ve pursued her by the traditional route. Dates and dinners. Weekends in the park. Wooing her might’ve been a novel experience for me and a way for her to view me as a serious contender for her heart.
But Allison and Bethany Aaron are the daughters of David Aaron, and the whole family is fucking mercenary. There’s no way Fee could be beholden to them. The contracts weren’t yet signed, not that I would’ve allowed that to stand in my way. I’d offered Allison the equivalent of twelve months rent for the three-month initial lease Fee had agreed, though I’d arranged it all through an intermediary. That’s all it had taken.
And of course, Bethany Aaron brought her to Ardeo. And because of Ardeo and because of Bethany and because of this fuckhead of a teacher, I don’t have time to woo and court her as she deserves. This part of our relationship needs to be more of a smash and grab. I can’t help but fixate on the fact that there’s been no one else inside her but me. Call me a motherfucking caveman, but I’d fight the world to keep it that way.
Serious and for keeps. I know she’s it for me.
As for Lulu, I love that kid. I may not have given her life, but I’ll make it my life’s fucking work to help her find her place in it.
Right after she’s done helping me dig a big old hole for the teacher man.
26
Carson
When I call at the apartment—my apartment—on Thursday evening, I ring the bell this time. No need to annoy Fee right off the bat during this visit.
“Uncle Carson!”
At least someone is happy to see me as Lulu opens the front door, launching herself at me.
“Oh, it’s you,” Fee mutters, widening the door. The sight of her might just steal my breath a little. It looks like she hasn’t changed since she got home from the office, her navy dress fluttering demurely around her knees, the top half like something a ballerina would wear. She begins to thread her arms through the sleeves of a cream cardigan, concealing the jaunty capped sleeves of her dress and how they show off her toned arms to perfection. And those fucking glasses. From Fiadh, the weekend goddess, to the woman before me who is just one wooden ruler away from becoming every man’s teacher fantasy.
“I really don’t want to know what you’re thinking,” she says, pulling the sides of her cardigan closer.
“You sure?” Don’t you want me to be the teacher’s pet?
In lieu of an answer, she rolls her eyes.
“Such enthusiasm,” I return, ducking to spring Lulu up onto my back, which was where she seemed to be climbing. When I straighten, Fee has already turned away and is walking back down the hall.