Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
The forced passive expression I wore must have cracks based on my sister’s distant stare changing to one of instant concern when she locked eyes on me. Her brows slid together. Dammit.
“What’s wrong?” she asked from the small checkout counter in the middle of the room. “Did someone dig through the order?”
“It’s still together,” I murmured, ducking my head to keep her from reading anything more into my expression. I could feel my body’s feral reaction, nipples tightening, cock hard as stone, the cords and muscles through my neck and back tightened.
What just happened out there? They were in Texas, for God’s sake. Land of the good old country boy and family picnics. No one ever jumped out of a vehicle to bluntly ask about my sexual orientation. It was so overwhelming, my thoughts froze. Maybe the governor’s son did things like that, but not me. I was buried deep in the closet with no plans to ever exit.
As if my thoughts conjured the man stirring my reaction, the back door swung open. The ringing bells didn’t even bother me this time. The visceral response I’d tried to tamp down turned up a notch, sending a racing chill down my spine. The short hairs on my arms stood on end as goose bumps sprinkled across my skin. I immediately ducked behind my sister, bent at the knee in front of the remaining boxes of assorted liquor, taking a steadying breath as I pretended to be engrossed in sorting his order.
“Then what’s wrong?” Lori asked again.
I ignored her as I swallowed the imaginary lump in my throat. It didn’t go down easily.
The foreign place inside me that was tucked securely away from the world, the one area that helped keep my secrets actually secret, instantly leaped forward, tangling with all my new emotions, threatening to break free.
As far as I hoped, I had pulled off the straight recluse persona. A byproduct of hiding such a fundamental part of my being. No real friends. Heineken was pretty much my only companion.
“Hey there,” my sister said in her sweet, fake voice.
The spicy, cultured scent of the driver’s cologne wafted through the air.
Shit. He smelled as good as he looked.
As if the connection I felt to him was real and strong, a deeper warmth spread through me that elicited fear rather than opportunity.
These guys needed to hit the road as soon as humanly possible. Only I had the power to make it happen. I grabbed a box and rose too quickly. Lightheadedness made the world feel wonky.
Fuck. What the fuck was happening to me? How did I stop it?
And why was I using so many foul words? I wasn’t even speaking aloud.
A flashing red warning sign blasted through my mind. The whys or hows of arriving to this moment no longer mattered.
The only goal I had was to get these guys gone before my brain shut down due to overload.
“I came in to grab a box or pay, whichever you prefer,” the guy with the great voice said.
I stumbled, my feet getting tangled up with each other as I tried to navigate past this guy without touching him. The box toppled around in my hands. Stability wasn’t on my side.
“Here, let me take that.” He rushed to steady my load, brushing his hand against my arm while I tried to keep the contents of the box upright.
We were close, maybe a foot and a half apart. My panicked gaze locked onto the alluring amber eyes.
Gorgeous, nice manners, and clear interest shone like beacons.
A hundred percent outside of my league.
A new set of feelings slammed through me. Me and this guy were not the same on any level.
Yet my worries began to subside.
The chaos of my life slipped away.
I didn’t immediately let go of the box, only stared at the fixated gaze holding me in place.
Something penetrated the haze, warning me to tread lightly, but tread all the same.
“I’ll carry this one, if you get the other,” he said. His rich tenor held humor. The tone encapsulating me, compelling me to do his bidding.
What had made the guy with the eyes find anything funny?
Was it my reaction to him? Or was he poking fun at the not-so-heavy box that I could barely keep upright?
Or was he amused by the sheer volume of what he had ordered?
Three hundred fifty dollars of liquor was a significant haul.
Then again, he might be grinning because he read my uncertainty like a book.
In one helpful gesture, he’d annihilated the physical distance I had tried to maintain. Now I had butterflies taking flight in my belly. In that moment I realized if I ever planned to do anything more about my sexuality, it’d be with this guy. The other two men had instantly paled in comparison.
The chuckle that followed eased my frantic nerves. I found myself chuckling too.