Cry About It: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Maggie Gates

Author:Maggie Gates [Gates, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

22

JOELLE

“Tell me something.” Vaughan’s voice was low and gritty like sandpaper. His fingers tangled in my hair as he stroked it away from my face.

We had been lying like that for the better part of an hour. Breakfast was long gone. The groceries—or whatever the hell he had procured in town—were still sitting on the counter. Bean was happily gnawing away on a bully stick that Vaughan had tossed him.

It was like I had been captured in a freeze frame, complete with a record screech, right before a narrator popped in and said, “Yep, that’s me—snuggling with the human twat waffle. You’re probably wondering how I got here.”

Everything about this scene made my skin crawl.

But then his hand found my hair and started stroking. Oh, sweet Dolly Parton— I was a goner.

I closed my eyes and curled into his side. Vaughan had stayed upright, fielding emails and the occasional phone call from his uppity job doing whatever the hell demons do when they’re not possessing people.

Maybe that’s what I could blame this on. Vaughan had possessed me when we had sex.

At least I had some kind of reason as to why I was cuddling his thigh like a koala clinging to a tree.

He had changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and I realized that it was the first time I had seen him in something normal. I had just assumed he was a robot who thought suits made him more human.

The possessive arm that pinned me to his side was so strong, strapped with layers and ridges of muscle.

“Hm?” I grunted, reluctantly peeling my eyes open to glance up.

The shit-eating grin he pointed at me was feral. “Tell me, is this rock bottom for you?”

A laugh ripped out of my throat, and I cuddled closer. “I think so.” I rolled onto my back, leaving my head in his lap. “What about you? Rock bottom?”

He chuckled and set his phone on my book stack table. “Nope.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“After my divorce was final I hit rock bottom.”

“And what is rock bottom for Vaughan Thompson?” I said with a yawn before burrowing under the covers. Rain plunked into the buckets scattered around as gusts of wind rattled the windows.

“I got really into paint-by-number projects and tried to go vegan.”

My eyes shot open. The laugh that escaped me was more suited for a foghorn than a lady. But no one ever accused me of being a fucking lady. “You’re kidding!”

“I shit you not, Ursula.” He stroked my hair again. “I stopped lifting and started doing yoga. Did a juice cleanse.”

I giggled. “So, your rock bottom was having a hobby and shitting yourself from liquid kale?”

“My assistant caught me painting a picture of Betty White in my office in the middle of the day. She staged an intervention.”

I howled. “I don’t believe you.”

He plucked his phone off the books and scrolled through his photos before showing me the screen.

“Damn,” I said through my laughter. “It’s actually really good!”

“I know,” he said with a chuckle.

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