Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I lean forward, peering out the window over the rim of the cup and, sure enough, there’s a swarm of guys out there stomping through my weedy yard with nothing but jeans, boots, and tool belts. Sable is right, they’ve brought the club. And oh, what a sight they are.
“It’s a full work party,” Nia says, poking through the bag. “Donut?”
I grab one, stuff half in my mouth, then mumble, “What time is it?”
“Eleven,” Mera says, grinning.
I glare, but can’t hold it long.
Sable opens the window, and the smell of cut grass and cigarette smoke comes wafting in. It’s weirdly comforting. We gather around the window like old ladies ogling the neighbor mowing his lawn. Hot men, all tattoos, some dragging ladders, others hauling planks, and every single one a ridiculous, unapologetic display of muscle per square inch.
“So,” Mera says, giving me a look, “Are you going to tell us why you just looked at Knox like that, or do we have to guess?”
I huff, walking out of the room and into the wet kitchen, trying to avoid the question.
“You can’t hide,” Nia calls, following me.
I groan. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated is for pussies,” Sable jokes, placing her coffee down and staring around at the papers scattered all over the floor, half of which are now damp. “What the hell happened in here last night?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I start tidying up, swatting at crumbs on the counter, but the distraction only lasts until Nia twirls me around and puts both hands on my shoulders. “Tell us, woman, or we’ll go ask him.”
I shoot her a glare.
“Fine. If you must know, Knox kissed me.”
Dead silence.
Even Sable’s jaw drops open, so wide the donut nearly falls out. Nia blinks at me, and Mera immediately shrieks, “No way.”
“Way,” I mumble, trying to keep my cheeks from igniting.
“It was... not what you’re thinking.”
“Were tongues involved?” Sable, horror-movie gleeful.
I grab a paper towel and throw it at her. “Oh yes. Tongues were involved. Teeth were involved. Bourbon was definitely involved. But I stopped it, because it’s a very bad idea.”
Nia lets out a howl and slams her mug on the table. “Tell us everything. Start at the angry part and end with the sexy part, but don’t skip the part where he probably threatened to murder you.”
I huff. They want to know all the juicy details, fine, they can’t say I didn’t warn them. I tell them everything, about Harper, about the kiss, and about how it ended.
For a moment, they all stare in shock.
“You’re telling me Harper was pinballing dirty money through this place, and not a single soul knew it?” Mera asks, her eyes wide.
I nod.
Mera gives a low whistle. “Damn. How much money are we talking?”
“I don’t know, but enough that Ralston now wants me to keep it going.”
“Shit. And Knox knows?” Sable asks, taking another sip of coffee.
“Yeah, he knows, and he didn’t want to believe it. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him or her anymore. If I continue, I might just have a breakdown. I need music, and maybe a small screaming session to reset my nervous system.”
Mera laughs. “On it.”
They turn on the music—Lady Gaga, because of course they do—and within three minutes all of us are belting the chorus and shaking our asses as we sweep, wipe, and mop. I’m halfway through scrubbing the counters when Mera nudges me in the ribs. “So, Knox. Are we rooting for him to try again?”
“Absolutely not,” I say instantly. “He is hung up on his dead woman, and I’m not about to clean that mess up or be the reason he tries to get over it. Besides, I’m not interested.”
I know I’m lying. I can feel the night in my mouth, the taste of it, the way he kissed me like revenge.
I wish I hated it.
Nia grins as she goes past. “If you ever want to talk about it, or if you want to pretend to talk about it but really just need to set something on fire, you let me know.”
The rest of the morning passes in a blur of cleaning, bitching, and gossiping about which of the club guys has the best jawline. Talon won, because the man is chiseled like a Greek god. Still, it was a close call. By five o’clock, the kitchen is the cleanest I think it has ever been, the guys have patched the roof and mowed the lawn, and have created a fire outside.
They also got alcohol.
I’m not unhappy about that.
We pour whiskey into plastic cups and join them outside. The wind is cold, but the fire is a beacon, and we sit around it. I feel the heat warming me to my bones, and I close my eyes, enjoying every small second of it. We drink for a bit, then we go for an adventure to the barn. In there, we find a huge tank filled with water.