Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I guess I should change clothes, too.” I pull his shirt over my head and inhale, enjoying having his scent wrapped around me. “Since these pants are ruined.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
I shake my head and walk toward the stairs. “I have more up in my bag.”
I’m a mess as I climb the stairs, and I wrinkle my nose at how sticky and dirty I feel. Honestly, I could use another quick shower just to rinse off, so I do that.
And when I emerge from the bathroom in clean clothes and feeling refreshed, Beck is waiting for me with a glass of water.
“I was messy,” I inform him.
“Not sorry,” he replies with a chuckle and kisses my forehead. “Come on, let’s go finish that movie.”
“Or that scene in my book.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you just want me to be permanently inside you all weekend, Irish?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” I bat my eyelashes at him and take a sip of the cool water. “Besides, you know you like the book.”
“Come on, then. Let’s go see what kind of trouble Dom and Val get into.”
Chapter Fifteen
LEWIS A.K.A. THE ARSEHOLE
Where is my tiny dancer?
Since I’ve been back in New York City, I’ve discovered that not only did she leave her dance company but she also no longer lives in her apartment.
That’s unacceptable.
That apartment is in the most secure building in the city, and I should know. I bought the fucking building as soon as I met her. I need her to be safe, especially when I’m out of the country for months at a time. What was she thinking, moving without giving me the courtesy of finding a new home for her?
Scratch that. She should be living in my home.
In our home.
Our bed.
I’ve never had a problem finding her before. An easy Google search usually tells me when her next performance will be, and even what her rehearsal schedule is.
My beautiful girl is a public figure, someone who others admire.
And she’s all mine.
It didn’t bother me when she said she needed to take a step back from us. I know that her career is important to her, and with my own schedule so busy with travel, it made sense to take a break. Of course, I had to go see her before I left the country.
My tiny dancer is gorgeous when she sleeps.
But now, when I google her, I find nothing recent. There’s no mention of her in recent or upcoming performances.
“Where did you go, my love?”
I don’t prefer to ask for help, but it seems this time, I don’t have a choice. I’ll call her former dance partner, Mikhail.
I never liked him. The way he looked at my girl sets my teeth on edge, but he’s her friend, after all, and I have to be tolerant of certain things.
Of course, once she’s truly mine, he’ll be out of the picture.
The phone doesn’t ring or go to voicemail.
He blocked me?
Anger tickles the back of my throat as I swallow hard and decide to make another phone call. One that I only use in emergencies.
After just two rings, the call is answered.
“I have a job for you.”
Chapter Sixteen
SKYLA
It’s only been two days since I said goodbye to Beckett and his amazing farm, but it feels like it’s been weeks.
I miss him.
“And isn’t that ridiculous?” I ask the dog, who lifts his head from his bed and tilts it to the side. “It’s only been two days, and I’ve had plenty to keep me busy, haven’t I?”
In fact, right now, I’m alone in my studio after two back-to-back modern dance classes that went so well. I haven’t even advertised them yet. I simply mentioned them to a few of the mums after rehearsal, and they jumped on it. We laughed and moved and enjoyed the music, and I think these classes will be a highlight of my week.
“I have plenty to occupy my time, and I don’t have to be with a certain dirty farmer every minute of the bleeding day.”
I jump when my phone pings with an incoming text.
Beckett: I can’t stop thinking about you.
I sag in relief. Thank the gods that I’m not the only one feeling this way.
Me: What are you doing right now?
Beckett: Does that mean you’re not thinking about me?
Me: Of course, I’m thinking about you. You’re texting me.
Beckett: *pouty emoji*
Me: If you must know, I miss you, too. I was just telling Riley about it, actually.
Beckett: You’re talking about me?
Laughing, I walk to my water dispenser and fill my bottle as another text comes in.
Beckett: *photo of chickens* I was just collecting the eggs from the girls.
Me: And how many did you get?
Beckett: About a dozen. How is your day going, Irish?
My skin tingles every time he calls me that.
Me: It’s been a good day. New dance classes with the mums! Hard workouts but fun.