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)
She picks up my hoodie, and I think she’s going to put it on—keep it— but she doesn’t. “I wish it was Noah or Farrow or anyone else, but it was you I thought of.” She exhales hard. “And it’s out of my system. Finally.”
She tosses the hoodie into the corner of the room, on the floor, and I narrow my eyes, watching her leave.
She closes the door downstairs, and I walk out of the closet, stepping over to the bed.
Leaning down, I run my hand up the mattress, finding a tiny little spot where she dripped.
I run my thumb over it, still feeling her warmth. Did I know the moment I saw her at the gym that first night that I wasn’t getting on any planes any time soon?
I swallow. There’s no fucking way Noah Van der Berg or Farrow Kelly are ever seeing Quinn like that. This town is my home, Madoc is my family, and Quinn is mine to protect. She always was.
And I know I’m not out of your system, you little brat.
Jared climbs out of his car—one of the new Mustang Dark Horses—and if I had any energy, I’d laugh. It was only fate that he ended up getting sent Mustangs free of charge by the manufacturer for promoting the brand.
What did Madoc say yesterday? Yeah, Jared is all about supporting our local tow truck drivers. I shake my head. Madoc hates Fords, and I was glad to hear the rivalry still stands.
Jared sees me and stops, probably surprised I’m not on a plane right now.
He approaches me, the early morning light warming my shoulders. “What are you doing?” he asks.
I’ve been here for an hour, my plane probably somewhere over Eastern Europe by now. I haven’t called Isobel to warn her I won’t be back in the office tomorrow.
I can barely open my mouth to reply. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
I expect a pinch to appear between his eyebrows. It’s what happens when he looks at you like you’re dangerously close to wasting his time.
But instead, he chuckles. Breezing past me, toward his shop, he digs out his keys. “I know that feeling,” he muses, unlocking the door. “Got me into a lot of trouble back in the day.”
Yeah, well, I’m too old for that feeling. Too old to not have a plan.
But I can’t get her out from under my skin.
The memory of that gorgeous body moaning on my bed fills my brain, and I go hot everywhere, only a few feet from her most volatile brother.
When he doesn’t ask me what’s wrong, I speak up. “You’re not going to grill me?”
“No.” He shakes his head, leading the way into his shop. “You’re figuring it out, and I’ll leave you to it. You would’ve gone to Madoc if you wanted a hug.”
Thank you.
And yes, people don’t come to Jared to validate their decisions.
“I, um…” I clear my throat. “I need a car.”
He faces me. “What’s wrong with the one you have?”
It’s not tinted and everything Jared drives is.
Plus, Green Street knows what I drive. I need to look gone, at least for a couple of days until I figure out what I’m going to do.
But when I keep all that to myself, he gestures out to the lot full of company cars and older ones that various members of the family once used. “I’ve got a Colorado,” he drones on. “A 4Runner. Or Tate’s old Bronco?”
I spot one of his old Mustangs under a cover. I could tell that shape anywhere. The Boss 302. It was the car he had when I’d caught sight of him in the back seat with Tate twenty-five years ago. Madoc never let me drive it when I got old enough.
Good summer car.
“Anyone using the Boss?” I broach, chills spreading up my arms and my blood racing already.
He purses his lips, his baby still very close to his heart. Then, he opens a container on the wall and tosses a pair of keys at me. “Don’t fuck it up,” he grumbles.
I smile. “Thanks.”
I start to leave, but I need to say something.
“Noah’s not a bad kid,” I start.
He and I didn’t talk much last night—just had a couple beers.
Well, I had four, actually.
I have every confidence he’s a good friend to Dylan and Hunter.
Jared nods, bending over to pick up a socket set laying next to the tire of a Corvette. “If I can keep him from getting any girls into trouble for the next few years, he’ll be great,” he tells me. “Unfortunately, he’s more than his father and I can handle sometimes. He’s got a mind of his own.”
“So, he fits in then.”
Jared smiles.
Yeah, Noah is a good kid. That doesn’t mean he’s a man, though.
But at least he’s not a criminal.
“Farrow,” I continue, “is a problem.”
“Caught that in your short time here?” He looks over at me, amusement in his eyes. “Don’t worry. Madoc and I have our attention on it. Unfortunately, Dylan and Hunter adore him and they, too, have minds of their own.”