Page 106 of Wingwoman
And I vowed that here in this relationship, she would be cherished.
I would cherish her. I would choose her. Time and time again. And I would make sure by the end of it, she didn’t want me.
I was a goner.
A fucking goner.
Quietly I searched her gaze. I wanted more of her. All of her. I wanted everything she would ever give me and more.
I took her lips once more. Not just kissing her, but tasting her soul.
And I came apart inside of her.
Thirty
HOPE
For the firsttime since I’d met Josh, I woke up before he did.
We’d pretty much spent an entire twenty-four hours in his bedroom since yesterday morning.
He was still fast asleep beside me, tucking onto his side, arm slung around my waist, pulling me in close to him. His eyes were closed, a fine line of eyelashes fluttered every so often. Lips as full as I remember, his lower lip rests slightly open, just enough to let a breath escape.
I watched his face for a moment, taking in every curve and angle, his dark lashes. The slight imperfection of his skin; a small pock mark from a childhood fight. I loved it, it was all a part of him.
As he breathed, a soft and rhythmic slow inhale and exhale, his heart beat against my palm, a gentle, steady beat.
He really was ridiculously handsome. Maybe even the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
We had four days until the rodeo event. Four days until we had to step out in front of a whole crowd of people—people who were both strangers, but also Josh’s friends and family —and believably be a couple.
Then again, I was lying naked here beside him. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch to be a couple… even if we both knew it wouldn’t last beyond these six weeks.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t lie here all morning.
Carefully, I extracted myself from his arms and slid out of the bed, grabbing a fluffy folded robe that was resting on a shelf in the master bathroom.
Like one of the plush robes like you would find at a spa. And he had multiples folded on a shelf in his master bathroom.
I mean, really... who the hell lived like this?
I ran my hands over the gray veined quartz of the sink. A massive tub with jets was nestled into the corner as well as a standing shower with two heads.
Six weeks. I had six weeks to put those both to good use.
Slipping the robe on, I peeked out of his bedroom door to make sure his housekeeper wasn't here lurking around before tiptoeing down the hall back to my room.
I couldn't believe he'd managed to hire a team of people to bring all my things over from my dad's condo. How did they even know what was mine versus what was Dad’s?
I perused my clothes, folded in the drawers of the dresser and blushed as I came to a drawer of underwear. Some were mine, and some were completely new, courtesy of Josh's personal shopper.
I quickly chose a pair of jeans, a flirty polka-dot peasant top, and a spring-green cardigan. I added my favorite pair of brown leather boots and some natural, beaded, pearl drop earrings.
I pulled my hair back into a ponytail just as Cash came trotting into the bedroom.
“I thought maybe you got cold feet,” Josh said, startling me. I whipped around, surprised to see his eyes were bright, happy, and a deep blue, though his voice was rough, still twinged with sleep.
Although his hair was tousled, looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed, his eyes still dark with sleep, but his smile playful and mischievous. Despite mussed hair, he was dressed and holding two fresh cups of coffee.
