Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“I take it you don’t have road rage,” I point out.
“Road rage is useless. Most rage is useless. It can help if you’re untrained to get angry enough so you don’t feel the blows coming. Overall, staying calm is always best.” He pauses. “And comparing you to them…” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to do that. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”
I feel my cheeks blushing red when he winks at me, a cocky smirk on his face. This would about be the best date imaginable if it weren’t for the giant Ryan-sized elephant waiting to stampede over everything.
“Yeah, right,” I say sarcastically.
“I mean it,” he grunts. “A beautiful woman like you, Molly… You need to have more confidence.”
“So, how did the other date go?” I ask. Four years ago. I’m still not sure if that’s true. A silly voice inside tells me he’d never lie to me, but I can’t know that. Just because I feel it and want to believe it doesn’t make it true.
“Not well,” he says. “None of my dates have. That’s why I stopped trying.”
“Why?” I ask. He seems way too cool, comfortable, and at ease with me for me to accept he’d turn into some stumbling mess with other women.
“Maybe it was my lack of interest. I’ve been called cold more than once.”
“You don’t seem cold to me.”
Every time he glances at me with a smirk, it’s enough to heat me up inside. It’s enough to send my mind into the future, spinning into all the impossible scenarios, wedding bells and long lazy Sundays with the kids, an entire life… with Ryan as my stepson.
He glides into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant. It looks like an upscale place just from the exterior of the building, clean and well-maintained, with a long red carpet out front and two doormen standing on either side of the door.
He’s about to reach for the car door when his cell phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket and sighs. “Sorry, it’s my son. He’s going through a hard time right now.”
I swallow. Yeah, of course he is. His girlfriend—I—just broke up with him. “I understand.”
Even now, I’m thinking about the passion in his voice and the fact this makes him a good father. He’ll be a good dad to our kids, too.
He answers the phone. “Ryan? Wait. Christ. Send me a pin. Now. Right now, son.” He puts the phone on the dash, starting the car.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as he pulls out of the parking spot quickly.
“Ryan’s drunk. Maybe on drugs. Apparently, he got into it with a few criminal types. They’ve locked him in the bathroom.”
“Shouldn’t he call the cops?” I say.
“He said he can’t. He said they’d kill him. For fuck’s sake.” He slams his hand against the steering wheel, then stops the car, takes a moment, eyes closed, breathing slowly.
I reach out and touch his hand gently. There’s a strong urge in me to take some of his pain and always be there for him. “It’s going to be okay. You can handle this. If you stay calm, you can handle anything.”
He opens his eyes, his lip twitching. Then he leans over. It feels so natural. I can’t help but lean toward him, magnetized by the intimacy, the primal pulsing deep within, ordering me to get as close to him as I can, to stay close.
He groans softly as our lips meet. I push against him, tasting him, savoring the texture of his mouth. His hand touches my knee and glides higher, but then he holds it there, squeezing me gently. Then harder. He groans with more passion. I can feel the heat emanating from him. I claw onto his arms. They’re so big, so hard. My fingernails bend against his muscles.
Then he pulls away, shuddering all over. His eyes are wild and wide. “You’ve got no idea how badly I want to do that again,” he snarls, “but…”
“I understand,” I murmur. “Your son needs you.”
My lips tingle just like every part of me does when I make contact with him. There’s a voice deep within screaming at me to leap into his lap and kiss him again.
He looks stubbornly at the road as if he can’t even glance at me, or he’ll lose control. Maybe that’s the only way to stop this disaster. Kiss him, distract him, and leave Ryan trapped with the criminals.
I smooth my hands over my belly, nerves twisting through me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Duke
It’s so difficult not to kiss Molly again. When I pull up outside the grimy bar in a bad part of town, I turn to look at her. She’s breathing fast as if being in this sort of neighborhood sends jolts of anxiety through her. That makes me feel like a bad man, bringing her here, but there’s no time to waste.