Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
His words gave me a margin of hope of winning Myla back, but I’m not a stupid man. I know that it is going to take work. I know I’m going to have to take it slow. But slow with her feels impossible.
Fuck. The moment I brought her into my home, I had her in my bed, even if I wasn’t sleeping in there with her. I just knew that I wanted her in my space, wanted to know she was in a bed I would share with her eventually. Sleeping with her those few nights her parents were in town also changed things. I have slept with my share of women, but I never felt a connection to any of them. Even just holding Myla eased something within me, brought peace I thought was long gone to my soul.
She was my peace in a world I knew was fucked up beyond most people’s understanding.
I look at the door and let out one last breath. I probably just scared the shit out of her. She is probably running for the hills, but Pika’s name leaving her mouth, the soft tone in her voice from worry over him, had set me off. Even if I know she doesn’t see him as anything more than a friend, I know he doesn’t feel the same.
I also know that Pika is a player. He has a girl in every town he visits, and often two if he is in the mood for that kind of play. Women throw themselves at him, and having Myla around him right now is not a risk I am willing to take.
I move to the door, opening it then moving down the hall to the room Myla has been staying in before knocking once.
“Yes?” her quiet voice asks through the door.
“Can I come in?”
She doesn’t reply for a moment, but when she does, it’s soft and unsure. I push the door open and see that she’s sitting on the side of the bed with a pair of sandals in her hand.
“I’m just about ready,” she mutters, ducking her head to look at her feet as she slips the sandals on one at a time.
“I wanted to tell you that you can have more time if you need it.”
“I’m ready now. I hurried,” she whispers, and my gut clenches when I hear the fear in her voice.
I live off power.
I have my whole life.
In my business, fear is power.
You can control most people by using fear.
With Myla, I do not want that. I do not want to think she is with me out of fear of repercussion.
“Take your time,” I tell her.
Her head lifts, her gaze meets mine, and she looks confused. “I thought you said we were going somewhere.”
“We are, but it can wait. Take your time.”
“I’m ready now.” She stands.
My eyes travel over her the plain, black dress, which is loose with thin straps that show off the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra. Then it billows out down to her feet.
“I didn’t know what I should wear,” she mumbles, looking uncomfortable.
I shake my head then tell her what I should have told her a million times before. “You look beautiful.”
Her head lifts and her gaze meets mine. “I…” She pauses, and her eyebrows pull together. “What?” she questions, looking completely confused and cute as fuck.
“You look beautiful.”
“Okay.” She looks at me again then straightens her shoulders almost like she’s preparing for war. “Are we going?” She tosses a hand out towards the door.
“We are.” I smile, take her hand, and hold it tighter when she tries to pull away.
I lead her out of the house to my Jeep, helping her in before jogging around and getting in behind the wheel. I have absolutely no plans set for today, so I’m going to have to make some shit up.
Myla
I look at Kai out of the corner of my eye and feel my eyebrows pull tighter together in confusion. I have no idea what he’s up to, but I know it’s something.
“Where are we going?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Dinner.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I wonder if this is some kind of business dinner.
Then, butterflies erupt in my stomach once again. Chances are, if we are having dinner, I will have to play the role of his wife, and as much as it pisses me off, I’m secretly excited about it.
We only drive for about ten minutes, and when we reach our destination, I’m even more confused. I look out the front window and double-blink. It’s not a restaurant he would usually have a dinner meeting at. It’s not even really a restaurant. It’s a small trailer with a few tables set up outside of it. The sign out front says Tides in large lettering, the small sign under it claims that restaurant has the best fish tacos in Hawaii.