Beyond the Thistles (The Highlands #1) Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Highlands Series by Samantha Young
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
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Her eyes flared, lips parting as she stared at me like I was worth something.

I wanted to disabuse her of that notion.

I didn’t ever want to disabuse her of that notion.

A pounding at the door broke our moment, and Sloane moved to get up, but I gestured for her to stop. “Let me.”

Placing my mug on the table, I stood and crossed the room to open the door.

Monroe and Brodan were on the other side. Brodan’s small, redheaded wife glowered fiercely up at me. “Let me in,” she demanded, pushing inside before I could react.

I stepped out of her way as her pregnant belly passed me first, followed by the rest of her. She’d had a neat little bump for the majority of her pregnancy and then suddenly, she was huge. Brodan told me she couldn’t sleep because she was so uncomfortable and that she cursed him nightly.

Sloane stood at the sound of Monroe’s voice.

“She okay?” Brodan murmured as he stepped in and closed the door. We watched as Sloane met Monroe and the two friends hugged around Monroe’s bump.

I kept my attention on Sloane as I answered, “She’s a fighter, so she will be.” I glared as I turned to Brodan, knowing he’d see my wrath. “He could have killed her.”

Brodan’s expression hardened and he murmured, “But she doesn’t want the police involved?”

I shook my head.

A dangerous look lit Brodan’s eyes. “Then I suppose it’s up to us.”

Satisfied, I nodded. “Lachlan promised her he’d take care of it. But I want in.”

“I’ll talk to him. I want in too.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Monroe asked.

We turned to find the two women staring at us in curiosity.

I answered honestly, for Sloane’s sake. “Planning Hoffman’s payback.”

Monroe scowled. “Good.” Then her face softened as tears lit her eyes. “Sloane says you saved her.”

Before I could answer or prepare myself, Brodan’s wife crossed the room and threw her arms around me, pregnant belly angled so she could get close enough to hug. There hadn’t been a lot of hugging in my life over the last two decades, so I patted her back awkwardly as she sniffled against me.

Brodan snorted as he cupped his wife’s head. “Sunset, remember Walk isn’t a hugger.”

Sloane shot me a bewildered look as Brodan pried Monroe away.

I knew what she was thinking.

I’d willingly held her in my arms.

No awkwardness.

It felt natural to hold Sloane Harrow against me.

And wasn’t that a giant fucking problem?

“Sorry.” Monroe wiped her tearstained cheeks. “I’m just grateful. And hormonal.”

“It’s fine,” I promised her gruffly.

“Let’s have some tea,” Brodan suggested.

“Ice.” I pointed to the pack Sloane had left on the coffee table. “You’ve barely iced your cheek.”

“I want in on the payback,” Monroe growled.

I looked down at Brodan’s ferocious wee wife and not for the first time understood why he’d loved this woman his entire life. She had a fire in her. A determination. Life had not been kind to Monroe, just as I assumed life had not been kind to Sloane. I wondered if that was why she and Sloane were friends. If trauma had drawn them to each other … and through that, their mutual fire and determination cemented their bond.

I wonder too much about Sloane. I needed to harden myself against the curiosity. Against her. The threat she posed to my peace.

She was safe now.

Her friend was here, Brodan was here.

“I better go,” I announced abruptly.

Sloane’s eyes widened slightly before she pasted on a polite mask. “Thank you for everything.”

Giving her a gruff nod, I grabbed my keys off the sideboard. “I’ll make sure your car is brought to you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I will,” I said, barely looking at her.

I nodded at Monroe and Brodan as I moved past them, avoiding my friend’s searching gaze, and slipped out the door without saying another word.

Seven

SLOANE

Walker had disappeared.

I knew it was dumb for that to be at the forefront of my concern only ten days after being assaulted, but his distance bugged me. I’d stubbornly refused to take more time off work than was suggested. Lachlan had offered me paid leave for as long as I needed. However, Callie would wonder what was going on, so I took two days off and told her I’d used some of my paid holidays so I could work on baking orders.

Then I got right back on that horse.

I hated that I was apprehensive the morning I returned to work.

I hated that nausea and fear had churned in my gut.

However, I returned to a new system for the housekeepers. While Aria and Lachlan wanted to assure me that the board would be much more cautious about who they granted membership, Aria had also insisted that each room be cleaned by two housekeepers. Safety in numbers, she said. It was an immense relief.

The first few nights after the attack, I’d woken from nightmares where Hoffman’s assault and my past life in LA collided. The dreams were a confused mix of past and present. For Callie’s sake, I didn’t let the exhaustion of those nightmares show. My daughter had no clue what had happened to me, and she never would.



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