Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“He’s not,” I say defensively.
For one single second, I ponder the idea of maybe letting that rumor float around town. If everyone thinks my man sucks in bed, they’ll stay the hell away from him. Though with Cane, him wanting someone else is not even something I need to worry about. The man was faithful when I thought we weren’t a couple. To him we’ve always been one. It’s one of the reasons it was so damn hard not to forgive him for turning me down all those years ago.
“So the rumors are true then? You finally cracked.”
“People really talking about us?” I don’t see my dad saying anything to anyone. The only time we’ve been in public was when we were in Houston.
“I mean, it was only a matter of time. We all knew this day would come, but it was on Tabby Tattles’ blog. There was even a picture of the two of you looking smitten with each other.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, it was in some hotel in Houston.”
“Yeah, we’re a thing.” I can’t help but smile. It feels good to say the words out loud to someone else. “My Cane is a very generous lover,” I admit. “I slept like hell because I didn’t stay the night with him. I don’t even know how that’s possible. I’ve slept alone my whole life. It should bother me when we’re sharing a bed. Not the other way around.”
“That’s sweet.” Scooter is genuinely happy for me. He’s always been team Cane. Or team Astor gets a life that’s more than work and her father.
“Let’s see how sweet you think he is here in a minute.” I nod my head toward the long gravel driveway that Cane has just pulled onto. “He’s the jealous type.”
I should be mad that he’s here when I told him not to come, but if he listened to me every time I told him to stay away in the past, we would’ve never gotten together. His undercover persistence used to annoy me, but now I find myself loving it.
“Of course he is. Always has been. All the boys knew to stay away from you in high school. Even after he graduated, he put the fear of God into anyone he thought stared at you too long.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. That should piss me off to no end. I’m a strong, independent woman. If anything, I should be livid, but I’m not. I wasn't interested in any of the other boys back in high school or any time after. He did me a favor in that regard. But there is something about Cane’s jealousy that makes me feel delicate and feminine. That’s not a feeling I’m used to having. Not in my line of work. He makes me feel it, though, and I love it.
I notice as he draws closer that he’s not alone. Blake is actually in the driver's seat. The truck barely stops before Cane is jumping out. Blake gives Scooter and me both a wave before he turns the truck around and leaves.
“Morning,” Cane drawls, walking right over to me.
“Your ride is leaving you,” I point out. “Why are you—” My words are cut off when he kisses me. It’s not a quick kiss either. For a moment, my mind blanks, and I kiss him back. My body melts into his. That is until Scooter clears his throat, jerking me back to reality.
“Cane.” I push at this chest.
“She taste like vanilla?” Scooter asks.
“The fuck you say?” I'm even a bit confused by the question.
“Asked if she tasted like vanilla.” Scooter repeats, and I know I do because it’s the sweetener he used in the coffee.
“You motherfucker.” Cane lunges toward him. They both tumble to the ground. Scooter is a big man himself. Not as big as Cane but pretty close.
“Knock it off!” I shout at both of them as they wrestle.
“You hear what the fuck he said.” Cane has Scooter pinned to the ground, his forearm pressed into his throat.
“He’s messing with you. He put vanilla in my coffee.”
“He made you coffee?” Cane shouts, clearly pumped up on adrenaline or something because the question is ridiculous. “I would have made you coffee if your fine little ass had stayed in my bed where it belonged.”
“She does have a nice ass,” Scooter says. Cane pushes his forearm harder into Scooter’s throat.
“I fucking told you,” Cane shouts. “He wants to fuck you.” He glares up at me.
“Cane, you’re being crazy. If Scooter wants to fuck anyone, it’s you.” Shock fills Cane’s face before he turns his gaze back down to Scooter, who is still trapped under him. He’s not looking too upset about it either. His face is turning a bit red, though, from lack of proper oxygen. Yet he still manages to wink at Cane.