Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Gently rolling me onto my side, he pulls me against his chest and presses a kiss against the back of my neck.
“Are you relaxed now?” he asks.
“Yes…”
“Good.” He tightens his grip around me. “Go to sleep.”
FIFTEEN
JAMES
The following morning
On the side of a random road
Fuck.
I slip from under the covers and step out of the tent.
Last night was the best sleep I've ever had, and I want more nights with Taryn pressed against me.
More nights with her moaning and writhing under me…
Seeing the Audi buried under snow, I pick up my shovel and start digging around the wheels. It's the best way to focus on something else. Anything else.
When I finish clearing the front tires, my phone sounds in my pocket. Stephen.
“Make it quick,” I answer. “I’m freezing.”
“Why are you freezing? Aren't you at The Four Seasons?”
“I’m hanging up if you don't get to the point.”
“Taryn hasn't made it into the office this weekend,” he says. “Should I send someone to her apartment to go check on her?”
"No. She won't be coming in until after New Year’s.”
“Um…Okay then.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah.” He scoffs. "Why the hell is she exempt from this mandatory work session?”
“It's a long story.”
“I’ve got time to read it.”
"She never misses the holidays with her family, so…” I pause at the sight of Taryn emerging from the tent, carrying my leftovers in her hand.
Her nipples are poking through her top.
"Hello?” Stephen yells. “Hello, James?”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “What were you saying?”
“You were the one talking,” he says. “You were about to explain why Miss Stone is officially out of the running for the second highest position because she’s too good to work during the holidays. As a matter of fact—”
“You know what?" I interrupt him. "You and the team don't need to stay there and suffer. Go home and enjoy the holidays with your families. If any client gives us hell for changing course, I’ll handle it.”
“What?”
“I’ll send an official email in a few minutes.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Not at all.” I’m too busy staring at Taryn. “I’ll call you later.”
“Don't you dare hang up on me. Don’t you—”
I end the call.
"Can I ask you something personal?” Taryn asks.
“As long as it's not about last night.”
She blushes. “It's not.”
"Good.” I motion for her to come closer.
"Do you think you'll ever forgive your brother?"
"I doubt it.”
“You’re not even willing to consider it?”
“No,” I say, “because the last time I lost a girl to a friend, I promised I would never forgive it again…Why are you asking me this?”
“Just curious.”
“Feel free to elaborate.”
“Even though what he did was messed up, it also sounds like you weren’t…” She suddenly stops talking, drops the food, and gasps.
Assuming she might be experiencing a sudden chill, I take off my coat and wrap it around her, but her breathing becomes more labored.
Tears fall down her cheeks, and it hits me.
Shit.
Lifting her, I carry her body inside the tent and dump her purse.
I find her epi-pen and press it against her thigh.
She sucks in a big breath and grabs my hand.
“I forgot to tell them to hold the garlic on my order,” I say. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She smiles weakly. “I should’ve asked before stealing your food.”
“No need to start asking now.” I squeeze her fingers. “You’ve been doing it for years. I’ve adjusted.”
“Do you mind if we rest a bit more before hitting the road again?”
“That’ll cut away time from your holidays,” I say. “We’re already pushing Christmas Eve.”
“I know.”
“Okay. I’ll finish up with the car outside.” I cover her with a blanket and prop her head with a pillow before standing, but she grabs my leg.
“I was implying for you to rest with me.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to be able to do that without wanting to fuck you again.”
"That's what I was hoping for," she says.
She pushes off the covers and I join her under them.
SIXTEEN
TARYN
Traveling on I-80 East
The green van in the right lane ahead of us isn’t moving.
A woman and three bundled kids are standing beside it, while a man is working under the hood.
Other cars are passing them by as if they don’t exist.
“Hold on,” James says, pulling next to them and rolling down the window. “Need some help?”
“A boost would be nice,” the guy says. “And a car jack if you’ve got time to help me with one.”
He glances at me. “Do we?”
I nod, and he steps out.
“You’re free to get inside and warm up while we work.” James opens the backdoor for the mom and the children.
I offer them our snacks, and we watch as James and the husband work on fixing the problems.
“All set.” James opens the backdoor two hours later. “Sorry it took so long.”
“Oh gosh, thank you.” The woman wipes tears from her eyes and hugs him. “Thank you so so much, sir!”
“You’re welcome.”