Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 19
Warner
“Can I ask you something?” she asks, sliding her head up to see my eyes.
With her body nuzzled into the nook of my arm, I try my best to set the bowl that held gelato on the side table using my broken arm. The spoon clatters around the glass dish, but nothing breaks. I would sacrifice the bowl before having her move from this position on the couch. I like holding her. Even if she is about to hit me with something off the wall. I just know it. I can feel it, sense it. I’m getting the hang of how Delaney operates. After two hours of normalcy, she’s bound to crack. “Shoot.”
Angling out of my hold—so disappointing—she blinks a few times as she faces me, bringing her bended leg between us. “Can I have five million dollars?”
I burst out laughing, dropping my head back on the couch. When the echo of only my laughter fills the air, I look back up as my chuckle teeters off into silence. Still grinning like an idiot, I run my hand over my head and down to my neck, where I scratch an itch. “I thought you were going to say something like you’re not my wife or you stole my phone. You know,” I prod, still wondering if she’s responsible for that. “Something like that.”
Her expression never changes. “Why would I say that?” Delaney remains staring at me like she was dead-ass serious.
“Ohh, I don’t know. Maybe because . . .” Narrowing my eyes at her, I dip my head. “Wait . . .” My brow shoots straight up while my jaw drops. Leaning forward, I click mute on the remote and then sit back again, still trying to figure out if she’s pulling my damn leg. “Are you serious about the money?”
“Yeah.” She tilts her head, finding humility through drooping shoulders and the corners of her mouth dragging down. The shift in her body language tells me all I need to know. She doodles on her leg with her finger, and her eyes stay focused on the invisible art she’s creating. “I was. I am.”
Hearing nerves I didn’t know she possessed causing her voice to shake pulls me to give her whatever she wants, to reassure her that it will all work out. But I can’t do that. I’m suddenly reminded of who we are to each other, nothing more than a con job gone wrong.
That doesn’t stop me from reaching over to rest my hand on her knee. “That’s a lot of money, Sass. Why do you need five million dollars?” Shit. I said it myself. We’re a con job gone wrong. But maybe it’s not gone wrong and has led right to this. This is what it’s been about for her? She wants a payday.
“I want to help my family.” Sure you do, sweetheart . . .
I stand and walk to the sliding glass door. I might need fresh air to help me through this conversation. “You can help more than your family with that amount of money.” When I open the door, I look back at her sitting where I left her. “Is that dollar amount set or it’s more of a pie in the sky, shoot your shot number?”
She gets up, crossing the room with sudden energy she didn’t exhibit on the couch. “It’s set.”
Since she’s not volunteering much information, my mind wanders the corners of the worst scenarios searching for something to make sense. “You have a gambling problem, or owe someone some money?”
“No, Warner.” Her smile is gentle, matching her tone as she touches my chest. “I don’t gamble. I owe someone money but not from debts I created.”
“Then why do you owe them money?”
She stares at me like the answer is on the tip of her tongue, but she’s lost the will to voice it. “It’s complicated.”
“Money always is.” I know firsthand. Walking onto the balcony, I reach the edge and lean my left side against it. The thickly carved balusters support the smooth railing and are reminiscent of the age of the prewar building. I always liked the balance of clean lines with modern conveniences, and then Delaney brought her chaos into my orderly world, fucking it all up.
Leaning against the railing in front of me, she shakes her head as if she has any shame. “I know this is uncomfortable. Imagine how I feel having to ask.”
I chuckle, but it’s lost to the sounds of the streets so many floors below. It’s incredible how even night doesn’t bring reprieve from the hustle of the city. Not even in the form of someone I was beginning to trust. Looking into her blue eyes, the skies are gone, replaced by clouds and lies. “You want me to imagine how uncomfortable you are in this situation?”