Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
But even thinking that, I know deep down, he’s worth it.
I kick the blankets off me and come to the conclusion that the only way I’ll feel better is if I have Dean in my arms.
I pull on a black slip dress and some pink slides before I head out of the room to get my keys. I probably should fix my hair, put on some perfume, but I need him more than I need to look decent. I jump into my car and head into town to the fire station. When I glance at the clock, I cringe. It’s past one a.m. I don’t even know if he’s awake, but I keep driving.
The firehouse is a red brick building, three stories and newly renovated with lots of forest-green accents. Firehouse One, Thistlebrook, Tennessee, is displayed in bold silver letters above the garage that is wide open. Thistlebrook’s only fire truck sits inside, but what has me choking back a sob is the lawn chair positioned in front of it.
Dean’s sitting in it with his head tilted up to the sky.
I pull up my car beside his and drink him in. His legs are stretched out in front of him, his khaki cargos hugging his thighs and riding up at the bottom so that his work boots are on display. His green firefighter shirt stretches along his shoulders and chest, his hands brushing the cement as his mouth moves. He taps his foot, and I know he has to be listening to music. He always is. Even when we were kids, he had a CD case that held dozens of mix CDs that he’d play all the time. Now, though, all he does is yell at Alexa to play whatever he’s feeling.
I put the car in park and get out. When I shut the door, his head pops up, and his eyes land on me. The grin on his face is instant as he sits up, leaning forward on his legs as his eyes make a slow perusal of my body. Even in the dark, I can’t miss the heat that gathers in his blue depths or the way his eyes hood.
God, he leaves me breathless.
Before I can move toward him, or he comes to me, I smile when Riley Green’s voice fills the space around us. I shake my head. “Now I get it. You’re a Riley Green wannabe with that slutty stache?”
He chuckles at that before he sets me with a look that has fire flicking up my spine. “Nah, darlin’. Just a guy with a stache who listens to a guy who sings songs that remind me of you.”
My heart skips a beat since I’m a true fan of Riley Green and love his music. His songs are beautiful, heartbreaking, and knowing I remind Dean of them makes me so glad I came here. He pushes off the lawn chair, and his strides are long and true. Just as he is. I step away from the car as he stops before me. His eyes search mine, his body taut as his gaze burns into mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I blink. “You are?”
“Yeah,” he says, running his finger and thumb along his mustache, his tell for being nervous. I’m not sure what he is nervous about, but I hate it just the same. “I owe you an apology.”
My brows knock together. “What?”
He looks down at our feet, tucking his hands in his cargos as he sighs. “I was selfish earlier,” he admits, his voice full of emotion. “I was so concerned with the fact that I needed to know you were mine that I didn’t consider how confused and frustrated you must be.” His eyes come back to mine. “I’m sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to lock you down and not give you a choice in the matter.”
“You didn’t make me feel that way. It’s just a lot,” I admit, unable to look away. “I don’t want to ruin your reputation. And we’re so intertwined. With Missy, Sadie, and the kids, I just worry that people will think less of you.”
Something shifts in his eyes, and the veins in his arms pop as if he’s squeezing his hand into a fist. “Don’t you get it? I don’t care what anyone thinks but you and Skyye.”
I press my lips together. “I just feel like it’s so fast. I’ve only been home a month, and I’m already finding myself obsessed with you.”
His lips tip up as he winks. “I like that.”
I roll my eyes. “Dean—”
“I get it,” he says softly, cutting off my complaint. “Sadie said today that you’ve felt like what you wanted didn’t matter. It matters to me. I want you to have what you want, but damn, darlin’, if I don’t need to be that want.”