Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
There’s a moment now when we’re just spent and I know he wants to flop over onto the bed. Maybe he’s not drunk, but he’s definitely buzzing. So I kind of expect him to do that.
But he doesn’t.
That’s not something Collin Creed would do. He picks up his shirt, or my shirt, or whatever, and cleans me off like the gentleman he usually is. Then he’s kicking off his boot, dragging his jeans down his legs, and pushing me over so I’m on my back.
I’m smiling at him when he finds my face with those eyes of him. And I know what he’s thinking.
Did I go too far?
But he doesn’t say it out loud. He sighs instead. Then kisses me on the lips.
A nice, long I’m-sorry-I-got-weird-there kiss that makes me laugh right into his mouth.
He pulls back a little, also chuckling. “You liked it, didn’t you?”
And I just nod.
Because I did.
My doorbell wakes me from a very nice slumber. Not to mention a sexy dream involving the man who’s got his arms around me right this very moment.
“What. The fuck. Is that?” The aforementioned man growls this into my neck.
“That, dear Collin, is a costume change.”
“What?”
I crack one eye open, find the vintage clock face on my nightstand—squint a little to force it to make sense—and nod. “That’s right. When someone rings my doorbell at seven a.m. on a Sunday morning during Revival season, it means a costume change.”
“I hate this fuckin’ town.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m not wearin’ a costume today. I’ve had about enough of the fuckin’ Revival.”
“Well, you do you, Collin. But…” I push him away and start to get out of bed.
He grabs me back and leans his face into my neck so when he whispers, “Don’t leave me,” it’s right up against my ear.
“I’m not going far, you baby.” Which makes him chuckle. “But I need to see what my costume is. I hope it’s a pretty dress. It’s Easter, after all.”
This kinda shakes him out of his hungover stupor. “Shit. I forgot about Easter.”
I scoot out of his grip and get out of bed, naked.
I think he kinda forgot I was naked. Not in the logical sense—we were all cuddled up together skin to skin, after all—but in the general sense, because his eyes go big and his smile goes wide.
I let him look all he wants as kind of a consolation prize for leaving him. Then I smirk, pull on a robe, and go downstairs.
Outside my door is an Easter basket, of all things. A giant—like two-feet-wide—Easter basket. And it’s filled with packages.
I gaze up, studying the sky, and take note that there’s a storm coming. Then I look around, checkin’ other porches on the street. There are no houses directly across the street from me because it’s just woods that lead down to the river valley proper. But I can see five or six porches in both directions to make my comparison and none of them are showing any signs of an Easter basket. Three of them, however, do have brown paper bags.
Hmm.
I pick up the basket and take it inside. Collin is coming down the stairs wearing his jeans and nothing else. They’re not buttoned or zipped so I get a good, long look at that happy trail of his before I shut the door and meet his eyes.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Do you need a coffee, Collin?”
“I feel like I need a cigarette.”
This makes me laugh. “Do you smoke?”
“Not really. But I’ve been known to.”
“Would you like one?”
“Do you smoke?” He’s squintin’ his eyes at me.
“Not really. But I’ve been known to as well.”
He lets out a breath. And I can tell he’s moody about the early hour and probably wondering what fresh hell is waitin’ for him today. Because it truly does seem like Disciple is trying to piss him off every chance it gets. “What do we do for Easter?”
I blink my eyes at him, mostly due to the change in subject, but also because I’m really not following. “Pardon me?”
He points to the basket I’m holding. “Do I buy you flowers? Candy? Is there a big dinner waitin’ at the end of this day?”
I can’t help my laugh. It comes out a little bit barky, too. Because he’s just too much. “Well, I would not turn down flowers and candy, but it’s not necessary. And you know as well as I do that Easter is just a pretend thing around here. So I don’t think anyone’s gonna have us over for dinner.” He looks disappointed, so I hold up a finger. “But, if you would like me to rustle up a spiral ham and a couple of side dishes, I would be more than happy to do that for you.”
“I forgot Easter isn’t a thing here.”
“Have you been celebratin’ Easter all these years, Collin?”