Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
She didn’t understand why Gideon had put them both in the uncomfortable position of having to spend hours together. It had been wholly unnecessary. Beth was sure Lucy would happily have accompanied her to the hospital.
So far, they’d been civil toward each other, mostly because Beth was in so much pain and Gideon appeared to be swimming in guilt.
He thrust his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in messy peaks and turned to stare at Beth, helpless frustration still simmering in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” she mouthed silently, and he tilted his head back, hands still in his hair, to stare at the ceiling for a second before stalking back to her. He tugged his blue baseball cap out of the back pocket of his jeans and shoved it down over his messy hair, peak turned backwards, before he slumped down into the seat beside hers.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “This was the closest place. I didn’t know it would be so damned crowded. We could leave? Go to that swanky hospital in Constantiaberg?”
“Where we’d once again be in the back of the line,” she pointed out, and he tossed another fulminating glare at the nurse who was emphatically ignoring him.
“This is my fault,” he said, almost to himself.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beth scoffed, not sure how her injury had become about Gideon. “It was part of the game. I shouldn’t have done that action dive out of the tub. What the hell was I thinking? I’m clumsy at the best of times.”
“You only came paintballing with us because I goaded you into it.”
Well, there was no denying that truth. He had goaded her into it.
“Well, to be fair, I’d allowed myself to be goaded. I’m always so stupidly reactive to every perceived challenge and slight from you. And, honestly? I enjoyed the thought of kicking your butt. I fantasized about pelting you with paintballs and then standing triumphantly over your prone body, one foot on your back, like you were a prized trophy. I even imagined firing triumphantly up into the sky, raining showers of paint all over us.” She sighed fondly at the thought.
Her bloodthirsty comment startled a genuine laugh from him, and she looked up to find him smiling almost affectionately down at her.
“Yet Kyle was the one who wound up taking the full force of your wrath,” he pointed out. And she sighed, wriggling again. Her butt really was starting to hurt. Adding to the litany of aches and pains springing up all over her body.
“He pissed me the hell off. He was deriving waaaay too much twisted enjoyment out of my predicament.”
“He reminded me of a predator playing with his food. It was a little disturbing to say the least,” Gideon said, scooching down lower in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. Earlier, he had shrugged out of the black jacket he’d worn for protection during the game, and knotted it around his narrow waist. Beneath it, he wore nothing but a red, hooded tank top. One of those muscle tops with the deep, revealing cutouts under the armpits. The distracting top showcased his broad shoulders and muscled arms to perfection, and offered intriguing glimpses of his beautiful chest and diamond cut abs as well.
His arms fell from his chest and his hands burrowed into the tank’s pouch pocket. The move pulled the top taut across his chest, but also had the effect of narrowing the swathe of fabric enough to reveal a flat brown nipple to her gaze. She averted her eyes quickly, not wanting to be caught staring.
He was gazing off into the distance when his shoulders shook unexpectedly, and he chuckled.
“What’s funny?” she asked, desperate for the distraction.
“Just remembering the look on Kyle’s face when you told him to eat paint, motherfucker.” His eyes were warm with laughter and, yes, that was definitely affection. She could hear it in his voice when he said, “Badass bitch.”
She felt her lips spread into a grin at the last two words.
“You think so?”
“Oh definitely. The way you sprang up, balls to the wall, and fired at us like it was your last stand…”
“It kind of was,” she interrupted with a laugh.
“Well, it took guts. And, I’m not sure if you know, what with everything that happened, but you totally clipped him.”
“I did?” She hadn’t realized.
“Yeah, nailed him in the shoulder. That’s why he fired at you. The fucker’s ego was bruised.”
“That makes me feel better,” she said, her smile turning smug. “I beat him. I got a legitimate hit. His was illegal.”
“You did beat him. And he deserved it.”
Which made her think of something else, something which she had absently noted, but hadn’t really considered the significance of until right this moment.
“There was yellow paint at the back of your jacket,” she noted, and his lips clamped, while his eyes shuttered.