Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
He lays me back on the duvet gently, tucking me under his arm and pulling me close.
"I can't believe that just happened."
"Mmm." He tucks his nose into my hair and plays with a few of the strands spread across the pillow. "I can't wait to do it again."
Everything about the last twelve hours has been a dream.
By the time Shane is finished with me, we hop into the shower together and I'm feeling so spoiled by this man a part of me wishes I hadn't wasted the last four years in college, and I would've just stayed here and been attentive to him and in return he would take care of all of my needs in and out of the bedroom. He makes me feel fulfilled and so happy, the happiest I've been since the day I lost Mom.
With Shane wrapped in a towel, and me dressed in a floaty summer dress with tiny little pink flowers dotted across it, we move to the kitchen and I start up a batch of his mom's famous Apple cinnamon pancakes that I know he loves. Before long, Rafe and Gio have joined us and we're all making breakfast together. My hips sway to the music on the stereo as I drop the first spoonful of batter into the pan, making sure to slide it around so the pancakes come out crispy on the edges just like the boys like. My boys. I smile to myself, thinking how quickly we fell into this rhythm of the four of us, and how happy it makes me to be with all of them here now.
"I wasn't going to say anything now," interrupts Gio, "but it seems like something tripped the security camera last night in the hallway of the penthouse."
Shane's body turns rigid instantly, his eyes casting across the room from mine to Gio’s.
He spoons the rest of the cooked bacon onto a napkin-covered plate, and lets them soak up the grease before he nods to Gio and they walk across the living room and into Gio’s bedroom. They don't bother to close the door, but it doesn't matter because I still can't hear anything over the music on the morning playlist. Gio and Shane return a minute later and I can see the stress lines working across Shane's forehead. Something must've happened, something bad. But I know he won't tell me, at least not until he's ready to. This is what they've always done, kept me out of the loop until they couldn't anymore. I wonder briefly if it's something about last night, not something between us but something about Damien and what happened at the club. A whisper of annoyance tremors through me as I think about Damien slipping me a date rape drug. Thankfully, I don't feel anything in my system any longer but there's no doubt in my mind that there was at one point last night. I'm thankful again that Shane was there to be my knight in shining armor, and I'm thankful that Gio insisted I wear a tracking device at all times. I never asked questions, always assuming they were my overbearing guardian angels, and last night was the first night they had to prove it.
"Pancakes are ready." I catch Shane’s eye, and he nods once. "Everything okay?"
"Yep. Or at least it will be."
He pulls the chair out for me at the kitchen table and I let myself be cuddled by him, at least for now. All three of these men have always split their time between taking care of me and taking care of business, and I've never minded it because they always make me feel so protected, but now this once I wish they would clue me in to what’s gotten them so shaken up.
Rafe adds two pancakes to a plate along with a generous serving of bacon, and then slides it my way. Gio pours a glass of pineapple juice and slides the glass at me. He knows it's my favorite. I appreciate the little details from each of them. When Rafe silently piles his plate high with his own generous helping of breakfast, he clears his throat once and then says, "Is there anything I need to take care of?"
I know he characteristically is the muscle of the group, and Gio is the security. Shane operates somewhere between the two, often giving them instructions on the next move, whatever that may be.
I bite into my pancake, chewing softly and hoping it's nothing that puts their lives in danger, although everything they do and the people they do it with always seems to have them in danger.
It's hard for me to swallow, despite how delicious the pancakes are. They've turned out perfectly, just according to the recipe, but now all I can think is that if I'm pregnant with Shane's baby I can't have him running off and taking lives, even if it's in the name of valiant reasons. I need him. And I need him to help me raise our child if we made one last night. I can't repeat the cycle of raising a child as a single parent like he was forced to raise me. Sick with the thought, I push my plate away, the rest of the food uneaten.