Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
After two knocks, the door opens. She peers up at me with a messy ponytail and flushed cheeks and lips that look like pink gum. And instead of chastising her for answering without asking who it was, I step inside and sweep her up, kissing her as the door closes behind us.
Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I tip my head back, letting her have complete control.
“How are you doing, not running on any sleep?” I almost accuse. She looks bright-eyed as she kisses me like she’s not exhausted too.
But she simply grins. “I feel good. High as a kite.”
To be honest, I don’t feel the same. A weight sits on my shoulders, and I could sleep for a year, but I don’t deserve rest. If I can just hold her for one more night…
I set her back on her feet. “I have a present.”
“Number seven?”
I cock a brow at her, remembering what number seven was on her birthday wish list.
Instead, I pull out the envelope with the title and the car keys I had Farrow acquire while I was busy at the tunnel.
Handing her the keys, I gesture toward High Street. “It’s old, but it has character.”
She takes the keys, looking confused. Holding her hand, I lead her to the front of the shop where she can see the old Jeep at the curb. Farrow had the owner drop it here before he gave him a ride back home and then returned to me at the tunnel.
She looks between the keys to the car. “You bought me a car?”
I don’t get nervous at the fact that she’s not smiling. Even if she doesn’t use it, I need her to have options.
“Just a starter one,” I tell her, cradling her face in my hands. “You need something for the business, and you can’t ride your bike back and forth to Weston in the dark. I’m putting my foot down.”
She cocks her head. “Oh, are you?”
I plant a kiss on her mouth. “Be good and drive it.” I turn to leave through the kitchen again. “Or I won’t do number seven to you tonight.”
She might not remember what it was, but I do. Wear a collar.
I have no interest in anything but being as gentle as possible with the most precious thing in my life, but…I can do what she wants and still be tortuously sweet.
And I’m not worried about the car. Once she realizes how much easier life will be with a vehicle, she’ll drive it.
“Where are you going?” she calls out.
I glance back. “Pet store.”
I face forward again before I see her smile appear, but I know it’s there. Number seven requires props.
Quinn
Checking the clock on the wall, I hold my breath for a moment. Time is moving too slowly. After I closed the shop for the day, I sent my crew off early and raced to my parents’ house, irresponsibly leaving the dirty dishes, a full register, and overflowing garbage cans.
But Lucas wasn’t at the house. He texted and said he’d meet me at Fallstown at eight instead. I’m sure Madoc wrangled him into an outing at the races tonight, but I would’ve hoped Lucas would just politely decline. I don’t want to go to Fallstown.
I want to see my collar.
And we need to talk.
But first, I want to see my collar.
Throwing down the dishcloth onto the worktable, I lock my hands on top of my head and lift my eyes to the ceiling, pacing the kitchen.
What do I know so far? He started Green Street. With Drew Reeves.
He unintentionally killed someone and banished himself over the guilt.
Now, he’s being exiled again by Green Street’s new leader.
I try to retrace memories from years ago. How he’d come over for dinner but then jet off to see friends. That one time he was taking me to the library and we ran into someone he knew.
He didn’t want them talking to me. Was it Drew?
I draw up the image in my head, but I can’t get a clear picture.
Then there was that day under the dock when we hid. Was that before or after the killing? He didn’t want to see whoever that was.
And now he hates himself.
I drop my arms, putting the cloth in the laundry and sitting down at my open laptop. When he held me in the car, everything was right. He was like Lucas a decade ago. That’s the Lucas I want back. That’s the one I deserve. He’s not a murderer, and he’s not a bad man. He let Drew Reeves cost him too much.
I glance at the clock again. I showered, changed into clean clothes, and came back to the bakery, having time to kill yet. Where is he right now? Every second he’s not with me, I’m worried. As if Hugo will snatch him off the street.