Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
It was then that she realized she was shaking. What was wrong with her? She was making a fool of herself.
“Sorry.”
“Baby, you need to stop saying that.”
“Why?”
He turned her to face him. “Because if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”
Her eyes widened. “You apologize?”
He tilted his head to the side. “I’m beginning to not like Loki.”
“What do you mean? What does Loki have to do with anything?” she asked, bewildered.
Guilt filled her even though it was silly.
She wasn’t in a relationship with Loki. Even though she loved him.
“You were surprised that I say please, that I apologize, that I let you go when you told me to,” he said with a hint of anger in his tone. “Makes me think he doesn’t do any of those things.”
Whoa. No. He was so off track.
“No, not Loki. He does those things, you’ve got the wrong idea.” She was practically stumbling over her words as she tried to get them out, to tell him how incorrect he was.
“Easy, baby. Breathe in. Now out. That’s good.”
His praise warmed her. Christ, she’d heard so little praise in her life. Only from her best friend and the occasional teacher.
“It was my dad,” she finally whispered. “A man’s man, if you get what I mean. No apologies, no saying he’s wrong; women are good for being in the kitchen and giving him boys. But my mom couldn’t do that. She gave him a useless girl. And then she died. Leaving him with a girl he didn’t want who could never be as good as a man.” She gave him a small smile, aware it probably looked bitter. “And I really didn’t mean to tell you all of that.”
He stared down at her thoughtfully. “My pa always told me that a real man admits when he’s wrong. And that there is no greater privilege than a woman’s trust. Her love. And when I had that, I should protect it. Never bruise it. You get what I’m saying, Isa?”
“I mean . . . sort of. But you’re talking like I . . . like we . . . and we barely know each other.”
He hummed, his thumb moving over her cheek. “I know more than you think.”
Crap. Did he really know her? Enough to actually want her?
And while she might be attracted to him physically, she likely knew even less about him.
Plus, there was Loki . . .
But was she going to go through life pining for her best friend? What if Loki found someone? Then she’d be alone. Sad. Pathetic.
“You’re nervous. I get that. So we get to know each other.”
“Are you saying that we, um, that we should date?” she asked.
“Yep. That scare you?”
Kind of.
But Isa was never one to back down from a challenge. And there was definitely a challenge in his tone.
“No. Why would it?”
His lips twitched. “Brave girl.”
She wasn’t, though. She was already having second and third thoughts.
“Give me a bit of trust and I’ll show you I’ll never abuse it.”
Isa shook her head with a small smile. “Damn, you’ve been saving up a lot of words. Good words, too.”
His mouth softened. “Years of words. Just for you, baby. All for you.”
Was he going to kiss her?
Did she want that?
Hell. Yes.
But all he did was run his thumb over her lips before the timer went off. She frowned in irritation as he stepped back. She didn’t want him to stop. Remy turned and opened the oven door. Suddenly, Isa realized that she had dozens more cupcakes to make.
Kiesha was waiting for them. This year, her friend was on the planning committee for the fair. And she was a demon when she was on a mission.
“Let’s finish these cupcakes, baby. Worry about everything else later.”
She nodded. Finish the cupcakes. Worry about everything else later.
Four hours later, Isa groaned as she straightened. Everything hurt. Her back, her hands, her head. The room spun slightly as the blood rushed from her head.
Shoot.
She grabbed the counter, breathing in deep.
“Whoa, Princess.”
Suddenly, she was in the air. She groaned as her stomach protested the movement.
“You okay?” Remy asked as he set her down on the sofa and crouched in front of her.
There was concern on his face and she drank it in. “I’m fine. Just straightened up too fast.”
And everything hurt. So much.
He eyed her worriedly. “Right. You’re having a bath, then getting into your jammies. Then you’re staying on this couch until bedtime.”
“Um, first. Did you just say jammies?”
“Pajamas.”
“I know what you meant . . . it’s just that jammies is such a cute way to say it. And, I mean, you’re not, um . . .”
“I’m not cute? Is that what you’re saying?” he asked dryly.
“Um, no. I’d never say that. You’re super cute. The cutest of them all. Grade-A cutie-pie.”
“Cutie-pie? Now, that’s cute. Gonna get the bath ready.”