Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“She did a great job.”
“She charged me a fortune.” He captures my arms and turns me to face him. “This is your home, too. Treat it that way.”
“Ethan—”
“I’m not kidding. Nothing is off limits. Open it. Shut it. Look inside it. I have nothing to hide from you. And I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too,” I whisper, emotions welling in my chest. He makes me feel as if I belong with him, and I warn myself to be cautious. Once two people really get to know each other, what feels like forever can become one more day.
He motions up a set of steel steps. “Gym’s upstairs on that side, along with an indoor pool. The bedroom is the door right beneath the stairs. Downstairs is my office and some extra rooms.”
There’s a knock on the door. “That will be our bags and maybe our pizza. There should be water in the fridge; can you grab us some? We’ll need to order groceries in the morning.”
“Yes. I got it.”
He walks to the door. “And there should be napkins,” he calls out.
I hurry toward the kitchen and open the fancy double door stainless-steel fridge, grab a couple glass bottles of water and the paper towels. By the time I’ve got what we need, Ethan is setting a pizza box on the counter. A few minutes later, we’re sitting at the island, and I’m answering a text from my dad to tell him we’re safe and stuffing my face with delicious pizza. “I love that we can get this late at night.”
“There’s a lot more of that here than in most cities,” he assures me. “Do you like to cook?”
“My mother did,” I say, “but it’s just me, so I don’t really stretch that muscle, though this kitchen could change my mind.”
“You’re going to be too busy to enjoy much else, I promise.”
His cellphone rings, and his brow knits. “It’s almost midnight. Who the fuck is calling me?”
There’s a flutter of unease in me that matches his energy. Late-night calls are never good. And the minute he spies the number on his screen, he grits his teeth. He shows it to me, and it reads “Anna.” My belly knots at the very idea of her, but he declines the call. “I’m starting to think a lot of this is her games.”
“What if it isn’t?” I say, despite the clawing inside me, seeing her name on his phone creates. She’s gorgeous. She was supposed to marry him. She has him on auto-dial, but if he wants her, I shouldn’t be here. I don’t think he wants her. Not at all.
“What if it’s about your brother? What if something is wrong?” His phone starts ringing again. I grab it where he sat it on the counter and offer it to him. “Take it.”
“She’ll text if it’s important.”
“Ethan—”
He leans in and kisses me. “I am not talking to her.”
“I’m okay if you need to.”
“I know. And I love that about you.” He reaches for another slice of pizza. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
I hesitate, not wanting him to ignore Anna, my gut telling me something is wrong. “I am. Ethan, I think you should call her back.”
His cellphone rings again, and this time when I glance at caller ID, it has his brother’s name. “It’s your brother. Maybe something is wrong with your dad.”
He sets his slice down and grabs the phone. “Grant?” he answers and listens a moment that turns into ten before he says, “I’ll be right over.” He disconnects. “I’m sorry to do this on our first night here. He’s losing his shit. Threatening to kill himself.”
“Oh my God. Ethan. Go. Go now.”
“This is what he does. He creates drama.”
“Maybe he’s crying out for help.”
“More like rescue from his stupidity. Believe me, baby, it’s been a decades long cycle with him. Maybe it’s become like the little boy who cried wolf. Maybe. That’s why I always go when he calls. That fear that the one time I don’t is the time he gets serious.” He pushes to his feet, and I follow. “Don’t wait up for me. I’m sorry I can’t show you to the bed properly.”
“Your brother is what matters right now. I’ll be here waiting on you.”
“If this is nothing more than one of his head games I’m going to be pissed.”
“And relieved.”
“Call me cold, but I’m immune to this. I’m telling you. It’s what he does.” I follow him to the door, and he kisses me. “I’ll try to be fast.”
“Don’t be fast. Even if this is just like the other times, and I hope that’s all it is, you need to end this cycle. Find a solution. But first, make sure he’s safe. Text me that’s he’s okay if you can.”
“I will, baby.” He folds me close, his hand on the back of my head. “You have no idea how much I need you here with me, but I can promise you this: you will. I’ll make sure of it.” He kisses me again, and then he’s gone, only he’s right back with our suitcases. “You want me to get yours to the bedroom?”