Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I don’t realize that I’ve reached under the table until my fingers wrap around his, and he turns his head, gaze locking on mine. As much as I don’t want to feel the connection strengthen between us, that’s exactly what happens. I’m powerless to stop it from occurring. And maybe there’s a part of me that is weary of fighting against something that feels inevitable.
After dinner, I help clear the table and wash the dishes. Jenna chats about her job as an elementary school teacher and the upcoming trip they have planned after Christmas.
“So, you and Colton? She watches me from beneath a thick fringe of lashes before picking up a plate and drying it. “You’ve known each other for a while?”
It’s a question...but then again, not really.
“Yes.” I’m unsure what to say or how much of our past to reveal. That’s up to Colton. And I don’t want to lead her in the wrong direction. Or myself, for that matter. Although part of me wonders if it’s much too late for that.
With a thoughtful expression, she nods. “Colton doesn’t bring many people home. In fact,” she falls silent, almost as if she’s searching her brain, “you’re the first since high school.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Even though Colton has a lot of friends and girls are constantly buzzing around him like drunken bees, they’re all surface-level acquaintances. None, with the exception of Beck, have managed to drill beneath the surface.
When I remain silent, she continues, “He doesn’t allow a lot of people into his life.” Her lips quirk at the corners. “You must be special.”
I shake my head, unwilling to let that little seed get planted in my psyche. “We’re just friends.” I force the words from my lips not only for her benefit but mine as well. Allowing myself to get caught up in the moment would be a mistake. I’ve been burned before. I’m unwilling to chance it again.
“Hmm. That’s too bad. I think you would be perfect for him.”
Once upon a time, I’d thought the same thing.
Now I know better.
As I finish up with the last dish, someone clears their throat from the arched entryway. I nearly bobble the plate before setting it carefully on the drying rack as my gaze slams into Colton’s blue one.
His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans casually against the doorframe. “Do you mind if I steal Alyssa away?”
Jenna picks up the delicate China from the wooden drying rack. “Of course not. We’ll have dessert in about thirty minutes. Sound good?”
“Yup.” This time, when he stretches out his hand, I don’t bother to fight it. There are so many emotions warring inside me. I gravitate across the kitchen before taking hold of his larger one. As I do, a spark of energy tingles through my fingertips. The chemistry between us is like a living, breathing entity. It always has been. As much as I’ve tried to fight it, it’s not a battle I will ever win.
With a gentle tug, he pulls me through the gallery and foyer before we climb the sweeping staircase to the second floor. My mind buzzes on sensation overload. Without trying, Colton rouses all the dormant emotions locked inside of me. As much as I want to keep him at a safe distance, it’s impossible to remain indifferent.
Once on the second-floor landing, I’m given a bird’s eye view of the entryway. “Your house is beautiful.”
“Thanks. My dad built it after he and Jenna got married.”
“How long have they been together?” I ask, genuinely curious about Colton’s family.
His brow furrows in contemplation. “Let’s see, they got married when I was seven years old. So, they’ve been together for fourteen years. The trip they’re taking at Christmas is to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary.”
I nod, processing that tidbit of information. “She’s really nice.” It’s obvious that Colton and his stepmother have a genuinely close relationship.
“Jenna is amazing.”
Our shoes click against the glossy hardwood that stretches throughout the hallway. Family photographs dot the walls. I’m tempted to stop and study them. This is the first time that I feel like I’ve been given a rare peek into who the real Colton Montgomery is. I’m loath to push too hard or do anything that will shut down his inclination to share more of himself with me.
When he opens the last door on the right, I realize with a glance that he’s taken me to his bedroom. The walls are painted navy, and there is a king-size bed dominating the space. A sleek dresser and desk match the dark wood of the bed frame. A plush velvet sofa is arranged on the opposite side of the room, along with a matching chair and antique coffee table, making an intimate spot to relax and chat. Next to the sitting area is a wall of built-in cabinetry. A mini-fridge is tucked beneath the counter and a fancy stainless steel coffee maker takes precedence on the sleek marble countertop.