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)
“Something tells me you’re going to be there every night anyway.”
I catch Quinn as she leaps into my arms. Everyone stands around, but I only take count of Fallon and Juliet before Quinn is on me. Lost in her kisses and her scent, I almost don’t feel the burn of Jared’s glare, which I have no doubt is boring a hole into my skull.
I touch her and look her up and down, making sure I don’t see a scratch. Kissing her forehead, her temple, and then her hair, I pull her into a hug.
I’ll hear about everything as soon as we’re alone. I just can’t stop holding her.
Someone steps up to our side. “You shouldn’t have given Green Street to Farrow,” Aro tells me under her breath.
Quinn turns toward her, but I don’t let go.
I explain, “Hugo would’ve just taken the club and moved it somewhere else—”
“Farrow has no interest in turning Green Street into a legitimate business,” she fires back, glancing between us both. “You don’t know him as well as you think. Neither of you do.”
And conscious of listening ears, she takes her leave, walking out of the police station.
I never specified terms to Farrow, but he knows what my position is and… He’s practically family. He’ll try to cooperate.
Fallon comes over, we hug, and I try not to be hyperaware of knowing Farrow’s relationship to her that she’s completely oblivious to. She needs to be told.
Madoc wants everyone at his house to decompress—root beer floats for the kids, martinis for the adults—but I can’t talk to any more people tonight.
Except one.
Pulling Quinn by the hand, I lead her outside, to her car, and we head home. To Weston.
I pull up in front of her place on Knock Hill and look up at the old brownstone, my mind exploding with renovation ideas even as I process the details she fills me in on of what happened tonight after I was arrested.
She pries my fingers off her thigh, and I didn’t realize I was squeezing.
He almost hurt her.
Fucking God. I’m glad he’s dead.
We stay in the Jeep, on the street, kissing for a long time. When I can’t take it anymore, I open her door and help her out of the car, and we walk up the steps.
“So…you raced a car?” I tease, trying to take her mind off everything she saw tonight.
She beams. “Well, I never said I couldn’t.”
Yeah, it’s in the blood.
We stop at the door, and I take hold of her again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Her gaze softens on me. “You will be next time.” Hesitating, she asks, “Right?”
I pick her up, guiding her legs around my body. “Every time.”
Taking her keys from her hand, I unlock the door as her mouth covers mine. She kisses me again and again, moving to my face and my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I tell her, slamming the door and locking it. “But we’re going to need a bigger bed.”
I can’t sleep in that single.
Well, I can tonight. We won’t be sleeping much anyway.
But she eyes me, feigning confusion as if she doesn’t know what I’m getting at. “We?”
Yes. We. It’s our room, our bed…
But still, I ask, “Do you mind?”
I need to be a resident of Weston. And Madoc already seems to know exactly what’s about to happen and is good with it.
She wraps her arms around my neck and brushes her nose against my cheek. “I’ve waited long enough for you.”
And I’ve waited long enough to start living.
I just hold her in the foyer, and I start rocking us side to side to whatever music is coming from Farrow’s place. All the dreams I have come flooding back, and my heart is pumping so hard with excitement to get started. Making this house a home for her and getting this town functional and productive again.
Bustling businesses, lights, thriving families. Enough to keep me busy for the rest of my life.
I’m about to walk her upstairs, but her phone rings.
“Better check it,” I tell her, my voice gravelly with desire.
A lot happened tonight. People will need to talk to us again.
But she looks at her phone, her face falling as if she recognizes the number.
Looking to me, she swipes the screen before I can see who’s calling.
She puts it on speaker. “Deacon?”
Deacon? I stare at the screen, memorizing the number for Jax to trace.
“He’s indisposed right now,” another man replies. “But I saw that he called you, Quinn.”
Quinn and I exchange looks as she holds up the phone between us.
“Manas?” she guesses.
“Yes,” he replies. “Is Lucas with you?”
I take the phone, hesitating a moment. “Thank you for the help earlier.” He has to be close, probably still in town. “But why?”
We’re not family. He doesn’t know me. He’s going to want something for coming to my aid.