Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
This is going to be a long ride to her house.
Letting my mind wander is not something I do. I’m a focused-on-the-prize type of guy. But damn, if she’s not putting images in my head that would lead me to take a detour with her that I shouldn’t.
Baylor.
That’s all I need to remind myself of my place in her life, and my thoughts clear. I start the engine, keeping my eyes forward as I turn us around. Pris keeps her cards tucked to her chest, making it nearly impossible to figure out her next move. I swear she’s flirting one minute, then acting like Beck’s the only one who wanted her here the next, as if I was humoring her.
The truth is, I should have been.
I know the golden rule when it comes to her. As tempting as she’s become, she’s more than off-limits. She’s practically outlawed in this pocket of the state. I’m sure some bill has been filed at the courthouse after passing a Greene County council vote that clearly states that Christine Greene is out-of-bounds when it comes to looking at her, much less thinking about getting her to bed. Even if it is at her invitation.
The road from my place to hers is lit by the moon and stars and the occasional headlight from a passing truck. That’s left us in the glow of the radio and a few lights on the dashboard. I steal some looks her way. She catches me once, but the others gave me enough time to take her in a bit more. The delicate features of her face, the slightest slope of the tip of her nose, and lips that have me trying to remember the last time I kissed someone. It’s not something I do anymore on dates. Kissing has them thinking it’s more than it is, and that gets messy real fast. I avoid messy at all costs. It’s not worth the aftermath.
“What are you thinking about, Tag?”
I glance from the road to her eyes on me with her elbow on the door and head resting on her hand. So casual and comfortable. I feel it, too. There are no pretenses with her. She doesn’t give a shit if I made a hundred K that day or if my suit was tailor-made.
When I give myself time to think about it, no one has asked me about my thoughts or well-being in years besides my mom.
One thing I’m damn sure of is there’s no way in hell I’m telling her those soft pink lips of hers were consuming my thoughts when she busted me. “I forget nights are about the stars. I don’t see them enough back in Manhattan. There’s too much light pollution at all hours.”
She glances out the window as if reminded the stars are there whenever she needs.
“Like the sun guides my day, the stars keep me company at night. I leave the blinds open so I can always find them if I wake before the sun.” She laughs to herself. “I probably sound so country to you.”
“No. I always did the same when I was growing up here.” Wrenching my hands around the wheel, I look at her again. “Now I close every blind in the apartment with the push of a button. Life is weird.”
“I can’t say I wouldn’t mind a button some days.”
“Do you mind me asking you something, Pris?” I keep my eyes on the road ahead, giving her the freedom to say no.
“I’m an open book. Ask away.”
This time, I turn my attention to her long enough to see the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. “I know why you came back, but why’d you stay? You had just graduated from college in Colorado, and Baylor said you had a job offer waiting in Denver.”
Her eyes connect with mine only momentarily before water fills the inside corners, and she looks away toward the window. “That’s not something I hide, but can we talk about it some other time?”
“Yeah, sure. Sorry if that’s a sore subject.”
“No,” she says, her hand resting on my forearm. “It’s okay. Really. I’ve been drinking and had too good of a time to drag up complicated answers.” Her hand slides over my arm, leaving a path of warmth where her fingers once were. “You can ask me something else. Anything you want to know?”
So much more than I should be allowed. “I’ve been assuming you’re single because I didn’t think to ask.”
“I’m so single.” She sits back, and with a dramatic swing of the back of her hand to her forehead, she adds, “Painfully so.” When her laughter fills the cab, I can’t stop myself from soaking it in just to feel the same.
I’m rarely wrong, but now she has me questioning what I was assuming all along about her dating life. Could she really be out here without any prospects? “Painfully so, huh? There’s no way you’re telling me you don’t have a regular roster of guys begging to take you out on a date.”