Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“So where do we go from here?”
Nate laughed.
“Bed, hopefully,” he said. “I want to be with you, Loni. Exclusively. But only if you want that, too. We’re both adults here, and I’d like to think we’ve outgrown our romantic delusions. Being with you makes me happy and I can see a future for us. If that’s how you feel, I’d love to be with you.”
Now my heart clenched in a good way. I smiled at him and he grinned back, reaching forward to catch my hand. Lifting, he kissed my palm.
“Of course, if you insist on just using me for sex, I’ll make the best of it.”
I burst out laughing as he pulled me up and caught me in a long, hard kiss. This time it felt right, like a bubble had popped and whatever lingering guilt and weirdness I felt about Reese evaporated. I dug my fingers into Nate’s beautiful hair and gave myself over to the sensation of his tongue exploring my mouth.
So what if Reese was utterly lickable in every way? He wasn’t real, not like Nate. Reese wanted a quick roll in the sheets, no strings. Nate wanted a partner.
My boyfriend was perfect. I didn’t need—or want—anyone else.
Parenting sucks.
My phone started blaring Jessica’s ringtone thirty seconds after we fell into bed, Nate’s leg thrust between mine and his hands burrowing under my bra. I ignored it because she was eighteen years old and she could darned well survive on her own for an hour or two.
Then the phone rang again.
Nate groaned.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you should check it?” he said. “Could be an emergency.”
“She better be dying,” I said with a scowl, reaching out for it blindly and almost knocking over Nate’s bedside lamp in the process. I found the phone right as it went to voice mail, flopping back on the bed and staring at the little screen in disgust.
Then Nate’s phone went off.
“What the hell? I’m not on call this weekend. If I have to go in to work, someone’s getting shot tonight,” he muttered, climbing over me as he grabbed for his shirt, digging through the pockets.
“Guess that’s what we get for trying to have a real date,” I said, feeling a deeply inappropriate laugh fighting to escape. Nate just looked so … frustrated. Poor man.
“I wonder if I can get disability for blue balls?” he said, grabbing the phone and answering it. “Evans here.”
He stalked off to the bathroom as I looked back at my own phone. Might as well see what fresh trouble Jessica had gotten herself into. There were two missed calls, one from Jess and one from Mellie. No messages. Great. I hit the callback button and Jessica answered.
“Loni, I need you to come and get me,” she said, sounding defiant. Fantastic—I recognized that tone. Jess had gotten herself into trouble and she didn’t want to admit she’d made a mistake, so she was going on the attack.
“Where are you?”
“Out at the Reapers clubhouse.”
I froze. “What are you doing out there?”
“Just come and get me,” she said, hanging up the phone. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Nate stepped out of the bathroom, his face a mixture of annoyance and apology.
“I have to go in,” he said. “Apparently we had two guys on work release from the jail walk off this afternoon. Not violent offenders, but it’ll be a PR nightmare if the paper gets hold of it before we’ve got them back in custody.”
“Jessica’s got herself in trouble again, too,” I said, sighing. “Some date. We can’t catch a break, can we?”
He shook his head, and then I started giggling. He glared at me, a reluctant smile crossing his face.
“I think the universe is determined to keep me from getting laid,” he said finally.
“Would love to say you’re imagining that,” I told him, pulling on my shirt. “But I think you might be right. Call me tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Shitty timing tonight.”
He stepped into me and I wrapped my arms around him in a long hug. It turned into a kiss that didn’t exactly help the situation. Nate might not be Reese Hayes, but he was here and he was mine and I wanted to have sex with him. Instead I tugged free and reached for my jeans.
Like I said, being a parent sucks.
My mood was ugly as I drove out to the Reapers clubhouse for the second weekend in a row. Sure, Nate and I had managed to end our date with a laugh, but I’d just about had it with Jess and her games.
Reese Hayes pissed me off, too.
He’d promised Jess wouldn’t be allowed back into the clubhouse, and I’d scrubbed his stupid toilets to seal the deal. Apparently his promises didn’t mean shit, because here we were again. That’s when my phone rang again. I grabbed it, answering without even looking to see who it was.