If You Need Me (Toronto Terror #3) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
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The front door flies open as we pull into the driveway. Dallas’s mom steps out onto the wraparound porch. Her hair is pulled back, and she’s dressed in a pair of pink capris and a short-sleeved white top, which is covered by an apron that reads HOME IS WHERE THE CAKE IS. She is the quintessential Betty Crocker of moms.

Her smile lights up her face as Dallas parks behind his dad’s truck. I’m once again submerged in guilt, knowing we’ll eventually break her heart. And coming back to Huntsville once this fake engagement ends will be another challenge. I push those thoughts aside. We’ve made our bed; we have to lie in it. It’s too late to go back now.

Diana rushes down the front steps, and Dallas wraps her in a hug, lifting her off her feet. My stupid heart gets all fluttery. The way a man treats his mother says a lot about him. Dallas adores his mom as much as she adores him. He always talks about her with respect and kindness.

I step out of Dallas’s sports car as he sets his mom down. She rushes around the hood and folds me into her embrace. “I’m so happy you’re here! How was the drive up?”

“Smooth like butter,” I lie. “Thank you so much for opening your home to me.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way.” She squeezes my hands and looks over at Dallas. “Sweetie, why don’t you grab the bags, and we’ll get you settled in.”

“You got it, Mom.” Dallas rounds the trunk.

“Oh, I can carry my own bag.” I packed like I was going away for weeks, not three days.

Diana chuckles. “I know you can, but it’s okay to let people do things for you.” I expect her to guide me toward the front door, but instead we round the side of the house. “We thought you and Dallas would appreciate a little privacy this weekend, so we set you up in the bunky.”

“Oh, we would’ve been fine in the house.” I look over my shoulder at Dallas who’s wheeling my enormous suitcase and weekend bag, along with his own small duffel and our garment bags.

I widen my eyes at him, and he just smiles and shrugs.

“I’m so happy that you’re finally together.” Diana pats my hand. “He was always so protective of you when you were kids.”

I frown. She must be thinking of someone else. The last thing Dallas ever did when we were kids was shield me from hurt. I don’t correct her, though. Clearly her understanding of my relationship with Dallas is different than the truth.

The bunky is an adorable little cabin. The covered front porch faces the lake and has a wooden two-person swing decorated with cushions. The front door is painted butter yellow with a sign that says HOME SWEET HOME. Diana opens the door and ushers me inside. “It’s cozy, but it’s private.”

“It’s perfect,” I say as I enter the small, one-room cabin. I’m impressed that my voice doesn’t crack. There are two doors on the far wall, presumably leading to a closet and a bathroom. To my right is a kitchenette with a sink, a tiny counter, and a mini fridge. A bistro table and two comfy chairs sit to the right. And to the left is the bed. I don’t even think I’d classify it as a double.

“We used to have bunk beds when the boys were young so they could have sleepovers out here, but I redecorated it when Dallas moved out, and now it’s our guesthouse. There’s a bathroom through there with a shower. And if you need anything, you just let me know.” She squeezes my shoulder. “When you’re settled, come up to the house and we’ll have a pre-engagement-party cocktail.” She winks and leaves me alone with Dallas.

He rolls my suitcase inside and drops his duffel on the floor before he hangs the garment bags on the coat hook and closes the door.

“What the fuck, Dallas?” I smack his chest.

“What did I do?”

I point to the bed. “It’s hardly big enough for one person, let alone two! What size is that even?”

“I think it’s a three-quarter bed. The frame belonged to my great-grandma Bippy, and obviously my mom couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it, so she put it in here. In her defense, it fits the space well.”

My stomach flips at the idea of having to lie beside Dallas in that tiny, tiny fucking bed and not give in to the chemistry raging between us. There isn’t even enough room on the floor for his enormous body. And he smells so fucking good.

There are zero chances that our bodies won’t touch in that bed. It’s too small. How will I resist him when we’re inches apart all night long?

CHAPTER 26

HEMI

“Ihate to admit it, but it’s a lovely party,” Mom says through a practiced smile.


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