Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Thornton's expression remained bland even as he caught sight of the flash of panic in her eyes. "Is that his name?"
"Um. Yeah."
The evasiveness in her voice didn't sit well with him. Blake was usually an open book in every way, and yet it seemed she had at least one secret to hide, and it just had to fucking do with another man.
Chapter Thirteen
A CHILDHOOD FRIEND, that was what how Blake had described the other man. But based on the data Aidan's security team was able to retrieve, Curt Teller had grown up in Queens, New York and not Laramie, Wyoming, like Frankie and Blake did.
Moreover, Teller's first documented visit to Laramie had been six years ago. That would make Blake about eighteen, Thornton considered pensively. Was that enough for the man to qualify as a childhood friend?
He skimmed the rest of the report, which included a list of Teller's flights to Laramie. It averaged about two or three times a year, and this presented another puzzle. He could still (unfortunately) recall everything he had seen from the CCTVs. Those two had been inordinately close, and if he hadn't instinctively known that Blake was still a virgin, their familiarity with each other would've made him think they were lovers.
But they could still be, Thornton reluctantly acknowledged to himself, if Teller found out about Thornton's relationship with Blake. The man could force Blake to choose—-
"It's done!"
Thornton immediately closed the PDF app and dropped his phone back into his pocket before joining Blake in the kitchen. It was already four in the afternoon when they had gotten back, but she had still insisted on doing something for dinner. She always acted like personally preparing for his meals was some kind of honor, and this was something no other woman had done for him before.
After a quick thanksgiving prayer, Blake stood up to cut Thornton a large slice of pie before placing a smaller one on her plate. She had just sat down and taken a bite when she saw Thornton already reaching for the serving knife.
"But—-" And then she saw his already-empty plate and burst into laughter. "Are you that hungry?"
"Not really." Thornton's tone was matter-of-fact. "But I like how it tastes."
"That's because your girlfriend made it," she teased him. "If you try any other pie, you'll see. It will never taste as good."
Thornton simply nodded. "I believe you."
This, too, was spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, and she couldn't help but laugh again. He was such an easygoing person really, but because he also had all that facial hair making Thornton resemble a certain unkempt assassin, most people couldn't get past his appearance to realize this about him.
Blake worked hard to anticipate Thornton's needs throughout dinner, a part of her subconsciously wanting to make up for her earlier gaffe. She had seen the way Thornton momentarily stilled when she accidentally let slip about Curt having no choice but to like her. And of course, of course she knew what that meant. But until her brother gave her the green light to share his secret, Blake hadn't any choice. She had to stick to their usual cover-up about being childhood friends.
"Blake..."
She looked up, her lips automatically forming an expectant smile. "Yes?"
He nodded towards his wineglass. "Are you planning to get me drunk?"
"What? No—-" She paused, realizing all of a sudden that in her anxious desire to please him, she had ended up refilling his glass nonstop throughout dinner. In fact, this was probably her fifth refill for Thornton...in the past half hour, and spontaneous laughter spilled past her lips. "It does look that way, doesn't it?"
"It does." Thornton might not be smiling, but his deep voice was made just a little tender by amusement, and for that one moment, all thoughts and worries about a certain New Yorker were forgotten.
Blake could feel her entire body burning and melting all at the same time as Thornton captured her gaze and she saw the heat that smoldered into an erotic swirl of promises. She watched him reach for the wineglass, watched him slowly take a sip, and with his eyes still on her, it felt like having him drink all of her in.
Oh God.
"Thorn." His name was a shaky, involuntary cry full of plea and yearning.
He put the glass down, and she could only gulp as he rose to his feet with lazy grace. It was like watching the most dangerously beautiful beast come into life, and her heart once again jumped a thousand beats per second as she watched him move towards—-
"Oh!" She could only let out a breathless laugh at suddenly finding herself swept up in her beloved's arms.
And then he began walking.
Towards his bedroom.
Oh.
He saw the flare of understanding in her eyes. "Scared?"
The slender arms around his neck slowly tightened. "Of you?" She shook her head. "Never."