Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
It was disconcerting, to feel such comfort with someone who wasn’t part of my family or inner circle. Especially being a man I barely knew.
“I am a woman who keeps her word. But I have to help clean up here.” I gestured to the table cluttered with glasses and appetizers.
Tina let out a snort from beside me, from where she’d obviously been shamelessly eavesdropping. “Since when do you help clean up?”
My head swiveled in her direction. “Since my brother and sister-in-law are going to have a baby and deserve a clean house,” I said through gritted teeth. I hadn’t been willing to go up against the take-no-shit biker babe before, but I considered doing it then.
“Don’t worry, hon,” Tiffany singsonged from where she was stacking plates. “We’ve got this. Go have a date with your fisherman.” She gave Elliot a sweet smile.
I might’ve glared at Tiffany if her wife wasn’t right next to me and likely to wallop me one for daring to do such a thing to her wife. But Tiffany wasn’t being calculated or scheming; she was a genuinely nice person who wasn’t reading the nuance of me not wanting to have dinner with Elliot.
Which made sense because on the surface, who wouldn’t want to have dinner with the amiable, attractive, eligible, single man who could eat pussy like a champ?
Well, not Tiffany or Tina, who I figured could give Elliot a run for his money in that department.
Jesus, how my mind wandered just so I didn’t have to formulate an answer.
“See?” Elliot’s white, slightly crooked self-satisfied smile pummeled me with its beauty. “I take you away and ensure you’re a woman of your word.”
His grip on my hip was gentle, the pressure a whisper of what was to come. Him directing me. Without clothes on.
Desire blasted through my entire body, setting fire to all the reasons why this was a bad idea.
“Fine,” I barked out. “But I can’t guarantee that I won’t have to rush out to meet my new niece or nephew.” He couldn’t argue with that, he was far too good of a person.
I stepped out of his grip to go hug my sister-in-law. “Make it a quick labor, for both our sakes,” I whispered.
She laughed. “Yes, Calliope, I’ll endeavor to make my labor as short as possible to ensure your comfort.” Her sarcasm was good-natured and without any venom— the woman simply wasn’t capable of it.
“I’ll have my phone on,” I spoke to Rowan. “Call me the second she crowns.”
“How about we don’t and say we did,” Nora cut in, wincing at the mention of crowning. I didn’t have any first-hand experience, but I was guessing a head stretching your vagina to its limit was not a pleasant experience.
“I’ll come pick up the girls in the morning for a coffee date,” I told Fiona. “Does Mabel want to come?” I asked Avery.
“If you’re game enough to take on three toddlers,” she nodded.
I grinned. “I’m game enough.”
I just wasn’t game enough to turn my back to my family in order to face the smiling man I’d been craving for days.
Therefore, I stretched out my goodbyes, using the children as human shields against the onslaught of emotions I felt toward Elliot.
But soon there was no one to say goodbye to, and there was just Elliot, waiting patiently, an amused look on his face and an outstretched hand.
I didn’t know if the hand was a taunt or a test.
Or maybe he just wanted to hold my hand. Maybe it was that simple with Elliot. Maybe my reptilian brain didn’t need to operate, scan for threats.
Maybe I was safe with Elliot Shaw.
Which was the scariest thought of all.
And yet I took his hand.
Thirteen
Here Comes the Sun — SYML
Against all my better judgment—not that I had a whole lot of that—I went home with Elliot.
Why my usually unshakable tenacity turned to nothing but ash when it came to him scared me. The lack of control I felt when I was with him was like I was adrift in the middle of the ocean. And Elliot was the anchor. A pretty cheesy metaphor, especially considering his job, but I couldn’t think of any other way to explain it.
The brave, honorable person would let themselves drown in that proverbial sea instead of bringing someone else down with them. Because I would. Bring Elliot down. He couldn’t carry me. Despite his impressive physique and force of will, he wasn’t strong enough.
No one was.
All of this, I knew. Yet there I was, at his house that smelled of leather, salt and firewood.
It was small.
Cozy.
One bedroom, tucked away down a bumpy lane outside of town, nestled against trees, inland from the ocean, which surprised me. When I’d thought about where Elliot lived—something I did more than was healthy—I’d imagined some seaside shack, all white, beaten-down furniture, beanies and Birkenstocks littering the place.