Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Her cheeks flush at my bold words.
I sigh. “When you didn’t tell Peterson about us, I figured it didn’t mean anything. That we didn’t. That your feelings didn’t match mine.”
She drops her gaze to my chest and settles a hand over my heart. “I don’t know how you’re feeling.”
“I thought I made myself pretty clear. At the restaurant. At your apartment.”
She shakes her head.
“Fine.” I tip her chin up with my fingers. “I want more with you, Sadie. I want to see where this goes. I’m into you. Into trying for an ‘us.’”
She blinks and a smile turns up the corner of her mouth. “Okay.”
I can’t help but smile in return. “Okay?”
“Okay. Mark knows about us. He says he won’t tell anyone, but I can’t say he will make it easy for me.”
I frown. Thinking about the annoying fucker makes my muscles twitch. “I can handle him.”
“I can’t lose my job,” she says. “While I don’t think it’s fair, the fact that we even like each other makes it a possibility—”
“We like each other?” I let a smirk spread across my face.
“But this case could be in jeopardy if I ever have to testify. It’s not about you and me. It’s about the law. I don’t want someone to go free solely because of a conflict of interest.”
“I get it.”
“I’m not your mom or any of the other women you’ve been with.”
I look her over, remembering what every dip and curve of her body looks like. Tastes like.
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Then don’t treat me like them.”
I nod, and then I lower my head to brush my lips across hers.
They’re soft and perfect, just as I remember.
My cell chimes in my pocket. A text.
I sigh, pull it out. Read the screen.
This is Rhonda. You hung up on me, so I’m texting. I’m pregnant. The baby’s yours.
“What the fuck?” I rake my fingers through my hair, my entire body going numb.
Sadie grabs my wrist to look at my phone.
She steps back, her eyes wide, and all heat from just a few seconds ago is gone.
“Yeah, Miles. What the fuck?”
12
SADIE
* * *
This is Rhonda. You hung up on me, so I’m texting. I’m pregnant. The baby’s yours.
Already I’ve committed the text to memory. The words pound into my brain in synchrony with my heartbeat.
This can’t be happening, especially after the fight we just had.
“This is bullshit.” Miles paces the room. I’ve seen him angry before, but this is a whole new level. “We used protection.”
“Yeah?” I whip my hands to my hips. I don’t like hearing about the guy I’m into talking about sleeping with another woman. And impregnating her. “Let me guess. ‘Don’t worry, baby. I’m on the pill. I’ve got it covered.’”
Miles stops and meets my gaze, his blue eyes on fire. “I don’t go out in a storm without a raincoat. Ever.”
Nice.
“Raincoats sometimes have holes in them,” I counter. We used condoms last night, thank God.
“Jesus Fuck! That’s not the same and you know it.”
“Do I?”
He rakes his hand through his hair, holding it back for a moment. “I hardly remember her, Sadie.”
Just what I want to hear.
“Great. That makes me feel a lot better. You liked her enough to fuck her but not enough to remember her. Plus, if you can’t remember the woman, how can you be sure you put on a condom?”
His gaze narrows. “Because I always put on a goddamned condom! I put one on with you, didn’t I?”
Damn. I feel like someone just lodged a bullet right in the middle of my heart. Didn’t he just say I was different? That he was feeling something more? But now I’m in the same category as Rhonda, whoever the hell she is. Just some woman he put a condom on for because that’s what he always does. He needs that thin latex barrier not only as protection from an STD and a baby, but from getting too close to a woman.
I hold back a sniffle. No way is Miles Bridger going to bring me to tears. I won’t give him that power.
“If I’m just another woman, then I’m out of here.” I turn again but I don’t move.
Not yet.
Because he’s going to stop me, like he did last time. Isn’t he?
“Sadie,” he groans, but doesn’t come over.
I count to five and then I walk forward, to the door, and out of the garage. I can’t stand the pungent smell of motor oil anyway. And Miles Bridger? He’s just another dick on the long list of dicks I’ve fallen for.
Who needs this? Who needs whiplash being with a guy like him? I count myself lucky I didn’t get in any deeper with him. One minute he’s pissed at me for supposedly being ashamed of what’s between us. The next, he’s got a baby on the way. With someone else.