Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Making” a human female fall in love was hard enough, but doing it when a four-year-old kid was part of the package was a whole different level.
Especially when I wasn’t exactly Romeo. Hell, I was the farthest thing from it. I had the absolute worst track record with females. I’d become the grumpy single dad who didn’t know how to plan a date. Hell, shifters didn’t date.
Looking back, I hadn’t been able to satisfy Remy’s mom, Soraya, with anything. Fine, I satisfied her with an orgasm the one time we’d fucked on the moon run.
After that, nothing. She’d been needy. Consistently unhappy. She’d bolted the first chance she got. I wasn’t enough for her. I had no confidence that I would know how to meet every emotional, physical, and sexual need of my fated mate.
And a human one? With all that fucking sunshine? I’d block it out with all my clouds.
I’d ruin her.
So far, all I’d done was tell Joy how I was going to fuck her and that she was a bad girl for not obeying. Oh yeah, and I’d spanked her gorgeous ass. That might have been hot as fuck, but that wasn’t a date. That wasn’t forever.
She wanted a night of sex? She got it. Oh, she got it good.
But I didn’t have the slightest clue how to make her fall in love.
Nor–far more importantly–stay.
But then Joy’s gaze met mine, and the warmth of it blasted everything else out.
The sense of rightness settled around me, driving out my objections.
“How do you feel about scrambled eggs and bacon?” I asked, opening the refrigerator to take out the supplies.
She glanced out the window at her house, the pleasant look on her face fading. “I need to make some calls about the damage.”
“The house can wait,” I said firmly, even though it would probably be better for Remy if I sent Joy scooting out the door. Still, my wolf couldn’t stand her not being fed. The need to provide and care for her was too strong. “You need a good meal before you tackle calling your insurance and all that mess.”
Remy had her by the hand and led her to the kitchen table.
Still, Joy hesitated.
“Sit down and eat.” I sounded grouchy. Formidable. Maybe even intimidating. I needed to work on that. Fuck.
Remy pulled out a chair and patted it. “If you eat two eggs, you get hot cocoa.”
To my wolf’s relief, my beautiful neighbor sank into the chair. “Your daddy is bossy, isn’t he?” Her voice was light, but when I looked over my shoulder, I caught heat and innuendo in her look my way.
Like she wanted it bossy.
Wanted me to be the guy who gave it to her hard and told her what to do.
Even liked being my bad girl sometimes.
Fuck, I was in trouble.
11
JOY
Two hours later, with a stomach full of eggs and cocoa, I stood in my wrecked bedroom. The wooden floors were swollen and warped from the rain. The rubble was everywhere.
I’d called the insurance company and sent them photos I’d taken with my phone. But I wasn’t the only customer in the area who had a storm claim, so they said they’d have an adjuster come out in two or three days. Sooner, if possible.
“Two or three days,” I muttered, staring at my flipped bed.
I remembered how Wes had just lifted it and flung it onto its side. I knew firsthand he had solid muscles, but working a ranch sure made him strong.
My inner walls clenched remembering the night before. I was sore, and for a day or two, I wasn’t going to forget what we’d done. All because of the storm. Because of the adrenaline.
Because… I’d wanted Wes, and last night there was nothing that was going to stop me from having him. Yup, a storm brought out my inner slut.
It also brought down the ceiling and my roof.
The drywall was broken like eggshells all over everything. Insulation was a fluffy but sodden mound in the middle of the floor. Like sad cotton candy. I looked up into the hole in the ceiling. I could see even more insulation and the framing in the crawl space. I could see past that and outside. Plus, there was the tree limb. It was in the crawl space area and small branches had come through the ceiling and had fallen haphazardly on my bedroom floor.
“I’ve always wanted a skylight,” I said to myself, seeing the blue sky through the hole in the roof. No. That couldn’t stay. I had a tarp in the garage I could put over the hole until the repairs could be made.
My cell rang. I grabbed it, hoping it was the insurance adjustor telling me someone could come out today to at least patch the roof.
“Crap.” I answered the call because I never knew what my mom’s emotional state would be. She often needed me to talk her off some ledge or other, and not always metaphorically speaking. The woman suffered from depression. “Hi, Mom.”