Promise Me This: a friends to lovers, slow burn romance (Wilder Family Book 3) by Karla Sorensen

Author:Karla Sorensen [Sorensen, Karla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dutch Girl Publishing, LLC
Published: 2024-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Harlow

I hadn’t laughed so hard in months. Maybe even longer. It wasn’t the alcohol, because I stopped after two. Ian stopped after one beer, leaning in at one point to tell me he’d be fine to drive us home.

Drive us home, I thought once, with only the slight edge of panicked laughter ringing in my head. Our home. His and mine.

I was already struggling to keep Feelings and Thoughts in a locked box, but it didn’t help anything when he did things like that. Or when he rushed upstairs to make sure I was fine when the lights went out.

Gawd, if that man had any idea how close I was to doing something stupid when I ran into him. Like oops I dropped my towel stupid.

The only thing that stopped me was, you know, my sanity. Rational thought. All those pesky little things. Being at the bar helped. The shit-giving at the table was relentless between three Wilder Siblings, and the addition of Ivy, who wasn’t intimidated by Jax and Ian in the slightest.

The music got a little bit louder as the evening passed. The guys told stories from the job sites that had us all laughing. Cameron and Ivy traded good-natured teasing that always had a slight undercurrent of foreplay, which made Poppy cover her face and groan. The whole night was just so freaking pleasant. They asked about my books and what I was working on.

“Right now, I’m plotting, and I sent a first chapter to my agent to see what she thought before it goes to my editor.”

“And?” Poppy asked.

I grinned. “I think her exact words were, I am obsessed with everything about this.”

“That’s great,” Poppy gushed.

Under the table, Ian nudged my leg with his, and my stomach flipped. I kept my focus on my drink but pressed my knee back into his thigh.

Jax narrowed his eyes. “You write killer books, right?”

I laughed. “I don’t typically call them that, but yes.”

“Doesn’t that shit freak you out? I’d have to sleep with the lights on if I was writing in some psycho’s head.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” I said, “but thinking through all the what-ifs and why someone would do what they do has always made me feel … safer. I’m not naive about the way people think. If there’s a worst-case-scenario outcome to any given situation,” I lifted my glass, “you can trust a crime writer to have thought it through.”

“Give me an example,” Ivy said.

With my pointer finger, I tapped my chin while I thought of something. I sat up, leaning closer to the table, elbows propped on the surface. “Okay, so when we moved into Ian’s, I chose the smaller bedroom closer to the stairs, even though Sage expected to have that room.”

Ivy’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“If a murderer comes upstairs, he’ll likely choose to go into my room first.” I sat back in my chair and spread my hands out. “Boom, I’ll shank him in the kidneys with the knife I keep under my pillow.

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