Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Giving you to three, Shakespeare,” he warned behind me.
I licked my dry lips and turned to walk toward the door I’d entered through, not sure if that was the correct way or not. When Ransom said nothing, but I heard his footsteps following me, I assumed I’d gone in the right direction. Seeing as I had no clue where to go from here, I paused and stepped to the side.
“I don’t know where the kitchen is.”
Ransom moved past me and smirked as our eyes met. “You’re sulking because I’m making you eat?”
No, I was sulking for reasons I would never admit.
“I’m not hungry, and your friend is correct. I’m a big girl.” I’d sounded normal. I wanted to pat myself on the back for that.
“You’re hungry,” he replied, then began walking again.
Glaring at his excellent backside, I followed him.
I should have stayed at the hotel. I could still go stay at one. I didn’t have to stay here. I’d be more comfortable alone. Away from this. Watching Ransom live his life.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want or if you’d wake up before morning,” he said as he turned and entered a luxurious kitchen. “I saved you some of everything we had.”
Was that before or after your topless female showed up?
Thankfully, he couldn’t hear my snarky internal comments.
“Thank you,” I replied, but I could hear the clipped tone in my voice.
He apparently did, too, because he glanced back at me with his brows drawn together.
Oops.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. I want to leave.
It was easier not to think about this part of his life when I lived in Manhattan and read his texts.
“Did one of them say something to upset you?” he asked, turning fully around now as his frown turned into a scowl.
I sighed and shook my head. “No. They were very nice.”
He continued to study me. “Is the stuff with your mom getting to you?” His tone softened as concern took the place of anger.
Why did he have to do this? Turn into the guy who cared. The one I couldn’t get out of my head.
“It should be, but no. There is nothing wrong.” Liar.
Ransom crossed his arms over his broad chest, and his tattooed biceps flexed, making the muscles in them pop out even more. He was what romance novels were made of … well, in looks at least. Which was why so many women loved him in the ones I had written. Tearing my gaze off his well-defined arms, I looked past him toward the long bar space.
“If you’ll point me in the direction of the food, I can handle the rest. You have company you should get back to.”
Okay, that had sounded a touch sarcastic. Damn my mouth.
When he said nothing, I chanced a glance at him to see he had one eyebrow slightly arched and his eyes narrowed.
“Cass?” he asked, as if that was ridiculous.
Yes. Cass.
“Unless there are more topless females hiding outside, awaiting your return.” Oh, for the love of God, could I not shut up?!
“No,” he drawled. “She is the only other female here, other than you, at the moment.”
Great. She’d been outside, almost naked with Ransom. Now she was sitting on Forge’s lap. She was a real winner, that Cass. And I was a judgmental bitch, apparently.
“Yes, well, then you should get back in there. Forge looks like he may swoop in and take your woman.” I had meant that to sound jovial, but the snark was strong with me tonight and coming out loud and clear.
“Shakespeare, you know me better than that. I don’t have a woman. I don’t want a woman.” He emphasized the last sentence, leaning slightly closer to me as he did it. “I have you. That’s the only female I intend to keep around. Cass is a dancer at a place in Jackson we frequent. She comes here from time to time to fuck. And not just me.”
Okay. What the heck did I say to that?
Ransom’s eyes seemed to be reading my damn soul as he stared at me. I needed to respond, but I was out of words.
“You know I like my options open,” he added with a crooked grin. “And seeing as you and I aren’t gonna be fucking, I needed someone here that I could fuck, smack on the ass, and send away.”
I swallowed hard, hating that it didn’t help my jealousy, but only made me ache more for something I couldn’t have.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I replied.
He tilted his head down toward me. “Then why does it feel like I do?”
The scent of nicotine should not smell that good. But mixed with whatever that was he wore that made him smell like something I wanted to wrap around myself, like a cocoon, it was intoxicating. I tried not to inhale deeply and get caught sniffing him.