Singe (Men of Inked Heatwave #8) - Chelle Bliss Page 0,44

else I’d be different.”

“I don’t want different.”

“Sure,” she mutters.

“I’ve had different, Arlo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I’m sure every thirty-one-year-old man dreams of dating a woman who doesn’t want to have sex with him.”

“You don’t want to have sex with me?”

She stares up at me, blinking. “I mean…”

“And every thirty-one-year-old man wants a woman just like you…at least for their wife. Trust me on that one.”

“That’s me. Every man’s fantasy.”

“You really are, sugar. You don’t know the preciousness of what you hold.”

“It’s typically about conquest for them. They think they’re going to be the one to get the golden ticket, and when they don’t…they’re pissed. So, just so we’re clear, you’re not getting my V-card.”

“Got it,” I tell her.

“Not unless we’re married,” she adds.

“Got that too. One thing I will never do is pressure you. If I wanted easy, empty pussy, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You could have good pussy that isn’t me. There are women out there who are more suited to your tastes and needs.”

“Arlo,” I say when she turns her head back down. “Look at me, babe.” A second later, she does, giving me her green eyes. “If I wanted easy, I’d have easy. But I want Arlo and whatever comes with her. We’ve spent two nights on the couch together, and you know what?”

“What?” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine and not blinking.

I slide my hand against her cheek, cradling her face in my palm. “They were the two best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

She smiles, curling into my grip. “Thank you for that, even if it was a lie.”

“No lie, Arlo. I’m being one hundred percent honest with you.”

“Okay,” she mumbles. “Whatever you say.”

“Listen, I don’t lie. It’s not me. I’ll always be honest with you. It’s the most important thing I have with those closest to me. We love one another deeply, but we’re also honest. And sometimes it’s brutal.”

“So, you’re going to be mean?” she asks.

“No, Arlo. I’ll never be mean to you. I don’t think I could be, but just like I told you about the chick at the bar…that was brutal and not so pretty, but it was honest as fuck.”

“I don’t know if I want that much honesty,” she says with a small laugh. “There is such a thing as too much.”

“Got it,” I tell her. “Now, do you have to work today, or do you want to come to my grandma’s?”

Her eyes widen. “You’d want me to go with you?”

I nod. “Why not? Everybody has to eat, and she makes the best sauce in the world.”

“That’s kind of a big deal. Your cousins have told me about the famous Sunday dinners.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Lily, Gigi, Tamara, and my other cousins will be there. We can hang by the pool and have some great food. Why should you sit here all day by yourself, slaving away at the keyboard, when you could be with me, laughing and eating the best pasta in town?”

She doesn’t speak for a second as her eyes move across my face, and I can see the wheels inside her pretty head spinning around. “I don’t know.”

“Just come. Please. I can’t walk out your door after an amazing night like that and know you’re here alone.”

“Oh, goody. I’m suddenly a charity case,” she says and sighs. “This is why I don’t tell people about my past.”

“You’re not a charity case, silly woman, you’re my girl, and I refuse to leave you here. So, get your fine ass up, shower, put on a shirt that covers your stomach, and get ready to eat more than you’ve eaten in your entire life.”

“You sure?” she asks.

“Wouldn’t ask if I weren’t.”

“What time do you have to be there?”

“One.”

“Shit!” she screeches, jumping up off me and away from the couch. “That’s not much time.”

“It’s casual, Ar. Just throw on whatever.”

“Casual?” She looks horrified. “A dinner with an entire family is never casual.”

“Mine is,” I tell her, moving to sit up and swinging my legs off the couch. “Totally casual and, anyway, you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure they wouldn’t feel weird with me there?”

“Hold on. Lemme ask.” I’m only placating her, making sure she’s comfortable. “I’ll send out a text.”

“Okay.” She shifts her weight back and forth between her feet. “Do that.”

Me: Everyone okay with Arlo coming to dinner at Gram’s today?

I hand her the phone as I stalk into the kitchen, needing a bottle of water.

“Why did you give this to me?”

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