Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
He “hung” up the phone and shrugged. “Alright, I have more words which means I can talk all I want and they’re really burning a hole in my pocket, so the second thing? I love big families. I always wanted kids, on account of I was raised without any siblings and had a father who’d rather sell drugs and prostitutes than spend time with me. The one and only memory I really truly have of him is when I woke up on a Saturday morning to the smell of waffles.”
"That’s a nice memory.” I patted his leg.
His eyes focused in on my hand and the way it was touching his thigh through the blanket. “I didn’t tell you the rest.” He licked his bottom lip then held it captive with his white teeth biting down until his skin matched. “I was a play, like a sitting duck. A cute kid that disarmed the woman waiting for a meeting. She took one look at me and figured it was safe. I mean there was a kid, a waffle, he even lied and said it was my birthday. He told her to invite her friends. Six arrived that day. Seven left to be sold on the black market for top price, all because of my blue eyes and a waffle. I still can’t eat them.”
The lump in my throat grew until it was nearly impossible to swallow the grief. “When I’m sad you tell me to get angry. Should we go burn down a Waffle House? I mean, we’ll of course make sure insurance takes care of things and get all the innocent people out.”
He smirked. “No. I just have a very strict waffle rule.”
"You don’t eat them?”
"I never have, and I promised myself that the only time I ever would—would be with someone I trusted with my life, someone who saw every ugly part of me, lied, and told me my scars were my best feature. To me, a waffle represents everything I want to forget—and every burden I have to share—and all I have to give.”
What was this feeling? Was I jealous of whoever would get to eat his first waffle with him? Why did I even care? He was a bodyguard, not my boyfriend, or my fiancé. He was the person I had to marry.
The person protecting me and Louis’ baby because of the bloodline.
I slid my hand up his leg and very slowly leaned in toward his chest. “The girl who shares a future waffle with you? I kind of hate her.”
"You’re about to be my wife, you’re allowed to hate any woman who shares food with me.” He shrugged slightly then winced again. “Besides, you’ll always be prettier.”
“Ah, cashing out more compliments I see.”
“It’s true. You’re beautiful.”
“I’m loud, annoying, and stripped in front of you in order to drunkenly seduce you and take you into my lair.”
"It could have been worse. You could have had bunk beds or one of those things, over the beds, with the pink or white.” A shudder rippled through him.
I burst out laughing. “A canopy bed?”
“Oh God, imagine fucking beneath unicorns. You know something’s wrong with you if My Little Pony gives you an erection.”
My face hurt from smiling. “I’m going to be kind of sad when you’re all healed up.”
"Why’s that?”
"You won’t talk as much.”
He swallowed and looked down. “I don’t have a lot to say, Raven.”
"I’ll take anything as long as they’re words, conversation, as long as you try.”
"Will you?”
“Talk? Yes.”
“Try.” He licked his lips. “Will you try with me? I deserve misery, but that doesn’t mean I wake up every morning cheering when it chooses me.”
He means will I try despite the fact we don’t get along.
Despite the fact that I hated him for years after he rejected me and vice versa.
Despite our past and uncertain future.
Will I try?
I nodded. “It was enough, your pound of flesh, for me to at the very least try, Ace.”
"Swear it.” His eyes started to blink slower. “Swear it and seal it.”
“I swear it,” I whispered and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And I’ll seal—“
He pulled my head down and kissed me deep.
He tasted warm.
Safe.
Intoxicating.
For one brief moment, grief left.
For one tiny flicker, I really was his.
And then the nausea came again.
Not from the kiss, but from the betrayal.
I was carrying another man’s baby, and my heart was buried right along with his body.
I had nothing to give this man.
He’d given me his flesh.
All I had were my words.
We each only had half of what we needed.
We would make it work.
I pulled back as his head lolled to the side. The last words he whispered were, “I haven’t had one of those in a while.”
“A kiss?” I whispered leaning forward.
He shook his head and frowned, his eyes not opening. “No…a really good dream.”