Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“What do you mean, exactly?”
I put the truck into park, then glanced over at her. Uh-oh. Em’s face was shadowed and worried. I reached out and caught her chin, turning her to face me.
“You’re my old lady,” I said, catching and holding her eyes. “I respect that he’s your dad and I don’t want to get between you two. But he needs to know you’re mine now. If he has a problem with that, you hand him off to me. I’m serious, babe. Nobody gets between us. Never again.”
She blinked, her eyes bright.
“Okay,” she whispered. “But—”
“No,” I said. “That’s all there is. We’ll have shit come up, fight, whatever. But you’re mine now. I won’t be sharing you, I won’t be leaving you, and I sure as fuck won’t let the Reapers take you away from me.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” she said slowly. “But I think I should make something clear, too.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t share, either. I know guys in clubs who have two or three old ladies. Or they have a citizen wife and a club girlfriend. You should be aware that this is an exclusive relationship, and that’s nonnegotiable.”
I shrugged.
“Okay,” I said, reaching for the door. “Let’s get food.”
She grabbed my arm.
“No, I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t just blow this off.”
“Baby, I’m not blowing it off,” I said, smiling. I kind of liked jealous Em. “But seriously—I don’t give a shit about anyone else anyway. We’re fine.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re a little too good at this,” she said. “Got all the right answers.”
“It’s hard to be perfect, but I have lots of practice.”
She hit my arm and laughed. Then her face sobered.
“I have another serious question for you,” she said. “I don’t want the right answer, though. I want the truth, even if it hurts.”
Shit. That didn’t sound good.
“Do you love me?”
I studied her, considering my answer.
“No,” I said finally. Her face fell, but I pushed forward. “My life has been pretty fucked up, Em. I’m not even sure I believe in love. But here’s what I can tell you—I’ve never given a shit about any woman except you and Kelsey. That’s it. Hell, I don’t even remember their names half the time, and until I saw you I never even saw a problem with that.”
She blinked rapidly. Christ, telling the truth sucked. But she asked for it and I’d already done enough lying.
“I remember the first time I laid eyes on you,” I said. “It was at that little mini mall across from Costco, back in Coeur d’Alene. You’d just gotten your toes painted at the Vietnamese pedicure place. You had those funny, girly things between your toes and you fell off the damned sidewalk because instead of watching where you walked, you were looking at your phone.”
“That never happened. I’ve never fallen down after a pedicure—I’d remember. That would totally ruin the nails.”
“Well, you missed the curb but still managed to catch yourself,” I told her, smiling at the memory. “Your phone fell down and broke, I think. I remember you looked up, right at me in my truck, and started laughing at yourself. Then you waved at me, grabbed the phone, and got in your car.”
She frowned.
“I actually remember that,” she murmured thoughtfully. “That was you?”
“Yup, that was me.”
“That’s … creepy. And weird, because why didn’t I recognize you when we met again?”
“I had a full beard, my hair was shorter, and I was wearing sunglasses,” I said. “Not only that, the window was tinted. I guess my point is this—I’ve spent days fucking women whose names I couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. But you? I remember everything about the first time I saw you, even though we didn’t even talk to each other. That’s when it started, whatever this is between us. ‘Love’ is a word that doesn’t mean a damned thing to me. ‘Em,’ though? That’s a word that means everything. I’d die for you, babe. Kill for you, too. I stood up to my club for you and I don’t regret any of it, not for a minute. So, you wanted to know how I feel? I don’t even have a word for what I feel, sweetheart. I just know it’s really fuckin’ good.”
Em sniffed, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, then pulled back and took my face in both of her hands, studying me intently.
“I love you, Liam.”
I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of the words. Then I said the only thing I could think of, even though I knew it was fucking pathetic.
“Thanks.”
Her face fell, although she caught it, smiling at me a little too brightly.
Telling the truth sucks ass.
Chapter Sixteen
FIVE DAYS LATER
EM
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I walked into the upstairs bathroom to find black beard hairs all over the sink. Ugh. Boy cooties.