Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
He’d just have to make sure that she ate little bits often.
“You said you’re taking something to help with the nausea?” He ate some food as he sat watching her yawn and shift slowly around, trying to get comfortable.
“Yeah, but I don’t think I can stay on it all of the time. Just while my ribs heal.”
His gaze hit the bag on the floor. Oh, he’d nearly forgotten. He got up and placed it on the bed, pulling things out. “I have gifts!”
He handed her a box and a scarf. “From Quaid.”
She looked at the scarf first, gasping with delight. It was pale pink with white pompoms attached to the edges.
“Oh, I love it,” she said before she bit her lip and obviously tried to rein in her reaction. Then she opened the box slowly and drew out a small, personal alarm.
Typical Quaid.
He wondered if the man had a romantic bone in his body.
“Oh, this is good. And thoughtful,” she said.
She liked it?
Well, he guessed it might make her feel better.
He handed her the book next and watched as her face fell. She looked like she was close to tears.
What the hell?
Indie stared down at the book in her hands. There was a card sticking out but she didn’t think she could bring herself to read it.
What was wrong with her? She was losing her mind.
Finally, she opened the card and saw it was from Slade.
I’m sorry, Boo.
She sucked in a shallow breath. Nope. She wasn’t going to be won over by some gifts.
“Princess? Are you all right? Does the book upset you?” Spencer was giving her a confused look. “Do you not like it? Do you want a new one? Isn’t that your favorite author?”
Yeah. It was.
She loved this author. She’d read every book she’d written up until she’d moved in with Billy. He hadn’t liked her reading trash. That’s what he’d told her.
In the beginning, it had been just some light-hearted comments that had turned into him asking her if he wasn’t good enough, to snide, demeaning remarks that had made her feel stupid and small for her love of romance.
So she’d stopped.
But that was something she needed to take back. Because . . . screw Billy.
“Billy didn’t like me reading romance books,” she explained.
Shoot. She shouldn’t have said that.
“Why not?”
“I think he thought I was comparing him to the guys in the books and finding him . . . lacking.”
“Well, fuck him. He was lacking. In everything, I’m sure.”
Spencer wasn’t wrong.
“You should start reading again,” Spencer said to her gently.
“Maybe.” She set the book aside and looked at the last two gifts left.
He held out the fluffy one and she realized it was a toy. But not just any toy.
It was a gargoyle.
He was gray with a craggy face and soft fluff.
“This is from Rock. Not sure why he chose that toy in particular.”
“It’s a gargoyle,” she explained. “He was the one who told me about them when I was younger. They’re protectors. They scare away evil spirits. How did he even find one on such short notice?”
“Yes, how did he?” Spencer murmured.
“What?” she asked, wondering why he sounded so contemplative.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. It’s just . . . curious. Anyway, these are from me.” He picked up the last item and she nearly squealed as she saw the fluffy pink-and-white-striped socks.
“I remembered that you always had cold feet,” he told her as he moved off the bed and lifted the blankets off her. Then he slid the socks onto her feet.
It was one of the best feelings in the world, having warm feet. And even better to have someone take care of her like this.
“Thank you,” she whispered as tears welled.
“Hey, that wasn’t meant to make you cry.” Spencer gave her an alarmed look.
“I’m not crying,” she lied. “It’s just my eyes watering from my headache. I think I want to go to sleep now.”
He stretched.
“Yeah, it’s been a long day. I could use some shut-eye. I’ll carry you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth and pee.”
“All right,” she said tiredly. She’d run out of energy to argue.
And at least if she let him do that he’d have no reason to stay any longer and he could leave.
Which was that she wanted.
Right?
22
Spencer: That bastard stopped her from reading. You should have seen her looking at the book Slade gave her. It was like all her Christmases had come at once and yet she didn’t feel like she deserved any gifts. Also, no one give her flowers. He used to give her flowers as an apology and now they make her feel ill.
Fucking bastard.
Slade glowered down at his phone as he sat in his private booth at Club Slade.
This area was invite only. Which gave him a chance to watch the club uninterrupted.
Only tonight he didn’t care what was going on in the club. The entire thing could burn to the fucking ground for all he cared.