Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Ledger, you feel like home,” Tulsa mutters as I turn around, using my back to open the door. She moves further into the crook of my neck when the sunlight hits her face.
“Yeah, butterfly, you’re my home, too.” I only put her down in order to grab my keys out of my pocket, arm still banded around her lower back. The second the truck is unlocked, door open, I place her in the front seat and help her with the seatbelt, making sure she’s secure. “Get some sleep, butterfly. I’ll take care of you.”
“Okay, wake me up when we get home.” She turns toward me, tucks herself into ball, or as much as she can in the front seat of a truck, and closes her eyes. Tulsa Rose is going to be out like a light by the time I hit the road, and the only home she’s going to is mine.
13
TULSA ROSE
I roll over, head pounding, cotton-mouthed, and ready to sleep the day away until I catch a whiff of the only man I’ve ever known to smell like the woods outside with a hint of leather. Ledger. That still doesn’t have me popping out of the bed and scurrying away like any sane woman would do. What do I do instead? I roll over, grab his pillow, and bring it to my face, simultaneously smelling it while blocking the light out. Two birds, one stone. My hangover thanks me for it. Yesterday is coming back to me like a movie being rewound—the letter I found, calling Ledger’s company and hearing a voice I loathe with every ounce of my being, then going to Hank’s, where I ate and drank myself silly. Of course, Ledger would be the one to swoop in and save the day. It’s not like in Alabama, where you can hire a car. That service doesn’t run in Orange Blossom, and I am not complaining one bit. Our town is perfect the way it is, even if the town busybodies will be showing up at my doorstep any moment now.
“Butterfly, you stealing my pillow as well as my shirt now?” Ledger’s voice sounds muffled since the pillow is still pressed against my face. It’s a sad day when you don’t remember changing out of your clothes or climbing into bed with the man you’ve been lusting after for the better part of ten years.
“I’m keeping the shirt. Mont snatched the last one I stole. Speaking of, how’d I get into your clothes, and why am I in your bed instead of my own?” I ask, taking the pillow off my head, wincing. My damn head is trying to have a drum session without my permission.
“I’d like to say I’m surprised you stole my shirt, but since I left it there on purpose, I’m not. I should have known your brother would have seen through my ploy. And you’re in my shirt because you walked your fine ass through my house, stripping along the way, saying you were hot. There’s only so much a man can take, butterfly. I was at my wit’s ends. It was either put you in my shirt or do something you wouldn’t remember.” I open one eye. He’s hovering above me, hands on either side of my head, caging me in, shirtless and slick with sweat.
“Wait, what? You did that for me?” I ask but get no response. I grumble on with my annoyance and say, “Damn, I didn’t even get an orgasm.” I roll over, still processing the fact that I stripped for Ledger, and I’m in his shirt and in his bed. There’s a playfulness in his tone, but there’s also a hunger.
“Jesus Christ, Tulsa, I can only handle so much.” If he only knew how that truly feels. Never have I been able to come unless it included Ledger in my fantasies. It makes for a real difficult time to get over the big jerk. “Are you givin’ me the invitation, butterfly? Legs, thighs, ass, and it’s perfectly on display for me.” The tips of his fingers that weren’t on my body a minute ago are now sliding along my ankles, going further. My legs are screaming in protest at the fact that I’m not widening them for his path, especially when he reaches the back of my knees. “I can smell you, butterfly. I know what I do to you. It’s the same exact thing you do to me.” I whimper in protest when he takes his fingers away. The man is a tease, and not in a good way.
“Ledger, I’m not sure how much more of an invitation someone can give you. If I were a weaker woman, I’d think it’s me who’s an issue, when clearly, that’s not the case.” I lose his warmth completely, figuring he’s stepped back because God forbid Ledger takes anything further. The man is driving me freaking crazy.