His Missing Wife by Jaime Hendricks (nice books to read .TXT) 📕

about him makes me want to love him, and I want him to love me. I want it so bad I can taste it.

But who would want this to love? Maybe he’s another Asshole, another hound dog sniffing out my insecurities, wanting to take advantage and use me like everyone else. He knows I wouldn’t go to the cops about Damon; he knows he can get away with beating me.

His pinky lightly strokes the top of my hand. “It’s not too late to go to the police. About Damon. I’ll drive you right now.”

He’s not a hound dog. He’s a fluffy puppy. A loyal Golden. An emotional support animal. He should be wearing a sash.

“Thanks. I’m okay.”

We stand up and he gestures his hands as if he wants me to walk in front of him, placing his hand on the small of my back the way I see the lead in the romantic comedies I’ve watched do. He says goodbye to Donald. The bartender looks at me and raises a thumb and forefinger to his ear, likely indicating I’ll be hearing from Michael regarding design possibilities. I’m so grateful to James and I want to kiss him. But I can’t.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” he asks. “The beach is only fifteen minutes away. Have you ever seen an East Coast sunrise on the ocean?”

“No, I haven’t. Sunrise is quite a ways away,” I say.

“We can take a nap in the car and wait. I’ll set an alarm.”

I don’t know why, but I agree.

We get in the car and he says he’s taking the long way there. He points out places of interest. If you go that way, that’s where Bruce Springsteen grew up. Five minutes later, I spent a lot of my twenties in the beach bars over in that town. Five minutes after that, Over there is where I played hockey when I was ten, but I was too clumsy on skates to be the next Gretzky. I’m instantly jealous of his upbringing. I can’t even fathom what it would’ve been like having two loving parents supporting anything I wanted to do.

It’s still dark, the sky black as tar, and James eases the car into a parking spot facing the ocean. The thump of the waves onto the shore pound so hard in my ears that I feel myself moving. The moon is hung high in the sky, almost behind us, shining a bright white glittering line on the water in front of us.

It’s quiet otherwise.

When his arm jostles, I think he’s going to make a move, but he just turns the radio station to Howard Stern.

“We can listen to this until we fall asleep,” he says.

And I do. I must be asleep, because I’m having happy dreams. I can’t even describe them; I just know that I feel safe. What could be minutes or hours or days later, as I’m gently shaken awake, I’m smiling. I don’t even forget where I am as my eyes open and the sun peeks over the horizon. I know I’m with James Montgomery, and I’m comforted.

“Hey. I didn’t want you to miss it. It happens fast,” James says.

He lowers the volume on the radio as the burning ball of fire turns from a dot to a semicircle to a full circle, the ocean melting around it. The waves no longer roar, but tickle onto the sand, bloop bloop. And in mere minutes, fast like he said, the sun goes up, up, up.

My first live sunrise.

I turn toward James, and my eyes let him know I’ll accept a kiss. One that I so desperately want, even more than I want to see Drew suffer.

“Did you like that?” James asks.

The sides of my lips curl upward. “Yes,” I say breathily. Kiss me!

“Good.” He smiles at me, then turns on the engine. “Let’s get you back home so you can get some real sleep. I have to be at work in a couple hours.”

Right. It’s Friday.

We leave the Stern repeats on as he drives back to the hotel, where we both reside. He parks, opens the door for me. He again guides me inside, and after we exit the elevator, he walks me to my door.

“I had a really nice time,” he says.

“Me too.” My breath must stink from sleeping. I don’t care if his does.

When he gets closer, he hugs me and kisses me—on the cheek.

“I’d like to do this again sometime, if you would,” he says.

I pounce. “I do. Are you free tonight?”

He nods. “I’ll text you.”

We lightly wave, and I slide the keycard into the door handle, and it lights up green. I collapse on the bed behind the closed door.

In. Fucking. Love.

When I wash my makeup off, I peer at my face in the mirror. Even the bruises can’t hide the happiness. The entire night was better than any damn movie I’ve ever been jealous of seeing.

Now, if only I could find out the deal with this Rosita girl.

20

James

Rosita.

James fast-walked from Gwen’s back to his house with fiery determination. He slammed the door behind him, and Candy barked.

“Sorry, girl,” he said as she met him in the foyer. He leaned down and pet her head, cupping her neck in his left hand, and then kissed her. “Daddy didn’t mean to slam the door.”

She cocked her head like she knew what he meant. Then she looked past him at the door again, likely wondering why Tessa didn’t follow him in. Tessa had never spent a night away from Candy, much less days at a time. She had to be confused.

James sighed. Candy wasn’t the only one.

He went right to his phone charging on the counter and looked in his contacts for Rosita. He was about to press her name and dial her up, but on second thought, put the phone down. He couldn’t go into this hotheaded. His heart was racing, and he needed to prepare what to say.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Why did Rosita