Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I’ve slept with two men.
And counting.
Trace won’t be the last.
“Other guys will do what you do to me,” I murmur.
“Exactly like me?”
“Probably harder.”
He snorts, sitting back in his seat. “Well, you know you can still come over when you need a break from your future husband five or ten years from now. When you need it good and dirty.”
He’s trying to make me smile, but I don’t. I look out the window instead. Ten years from now … God, will I still need him in order to feel alive?
An image flashes in my head, but almost immediately I realize it’s not my mother. It’s me. With her hair. In her clothes. In her life.
He tries to take my hand. “Come here.”
I resist.
“Come here,” he whispers.
But gently, I pull my hand away before he can take it.
Trace is a people pleaser. He hates anyone being mad at him. Comes from years of dodging four older brothers who are all tornadoes.
Macon, Army, Iron, and Dallas.
His sister, Liv, dates my best friend, Clay, but Liv is pretty calm compared to the rest of the Jaegers. Which I’m sure also comes from years of dodging five older brothers who are all tornadoes. She loves them all, though.
Their parents died within two months of each other more than eight years ago. The oldest, Macon, was forced to leave the military to come home and raise his siblings. Trace’s older brothers are pretty much his only memories.
“We could go on a date,” he says. “You have my money.”
“You mean your allowance?” I pluck the folded bills out of my breast pocket—a twenty on the outside and, knowing him, it’s probably a one on the inside. I hand it back before pulling my underwear on.
He returns the bills to his pocket. “I’m a man who makes his own living, thank you.”
Mm-hm. “I’m not letting you take me on a date out of guilt.”
“Well, I’m still up for sex, too,” he adds, flashing his adorable smile. “I mean, this was all your idea, and you got me pretty worked up.” He gestures to the hard-on in his jeans. “The part where you robbed me was pretty hot.”
I force a frown, but only because I’m mad that I want to smile. He’s trying hard to make me feel better, and for some reason, I feel an urge to let him know his effort is appreciated.
Turns out, I’m a people pleaser, too.
“I was trying to be tough like your sister and Clay,” I mumble, teasing.
I thought I was doing well, but now, I don’t know.
He touches my face. “I’m glad you’re not violent,” he says quietly. “I like that you’re soft with people. Don’t change that.”
It’s nice of him to say, but being that way doesn’t seem to work out for me. Being gentle just makes me an easy target.
“Don’t change, okay?”
Yeah, okay. Whatever.
“Just take me to your house.” I push up my sleeves and fasten my seat belt. “I need to pick up my car.”
“Krisjen …”
“It’s fine, Trace.” I don’t look at him. “We’re not a couple. We never were.”
I lied to myself. I did it to myself.
I’m pretty sure I was officially a booty call from the start. One night last spring I followed Clay across the tracks into Sanoa Bay, the original settlement of St. Carmen.
Officially, we’re all St. Carmen now, but the Bay—where Trace and his family live—doesn’t like to hear that. They’re possessive of their land, and they want to rule separately.
They’re wild.
We hide everything.
They’re poor.
We’re not.
They’re Swamp.
We’re Saints.
Clay fell in love with Liv, the bad girl from the wrong side of town, and I fell into insanity with one of that bad girl’s brothers.
But it was never love like it was for Liv and Clay. Trace doesn’t think of me after I leave his bed, and if I’m being fair, I don’t think much of myself, either.
He turns the key, starting the engine, and in a moment, he’s pulling onto the road and heading left, toward the swamps.
We cruise past the gates of my house, and I glance to see the upstairs lights still off before Trace turns right onto the dark lane and then takes a another left, across the bridge and over the wetlands.
I take out my phone and DM my brother.
Running to the Bay to grab my car. Be back soon.
Marshall is almost thirteen. He usually has his headphones on so he won’t hear Paisleigh if she wakes up.
A text rolls in. How did you know I had the old iPad?
I laugh to myself. Because you’re smart, like me.
I took all of his tech when I put them both to bed two hours ago, but I didn’t ask for the one device he thought was still a secret. Maybe I should have. If my parents had been stricter with my bedtimes, maybe I’d be in college right now like all my friends.