Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Patience is a virtue, and we both know I don’t have any of those.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got many, many other more valuable traits than boring old virtues.” He paused. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, and if you want me to take you home, I will in a fuckin’ second, but do you want to stay here? I’ll take the couch,” he said quickly. “Gentleman that I am.”
I gazed at him for a long moment. “No,” I whispered.
His eyes hardened at the edges. “No problem. I get that you want to be with your girls.
“No,” I said again. “You won’t have the couch.”
His face changed. “Becky,” he rasped.
I looked from side to side. “This is a big bed. Big enough for the both of us. I want to stay. I don’t think I could be anywhere else but right here with you. If I go anywhere else I’ll be…there.” I paused. “So I need you.”
Those four words were terrible to say, to admit, but I did it. For my sanity.
And maybe for his too.
He nodded and made his way over to the other side of the bed. I listened to the thud of his boots, the bed jostling as his weight hit it.
I turned on my side to watch him get in. Once he was on, he did the same, his face so close to mine I could feel his breath. He didn’t touch me, though. It was as if there was a small glass barrier between our two bodies.
His eyes searched mine. “This okay?”
No. It wasn’t okay because all I wanted was to smash that glass.
But that thought sent trails of ghost hands up my legs. They weren’t gone yet, and I wasn’t letting him touch me while the memory of their grip remained.
“Yes,” I whispered. I could have left it there, but I didn’t. “It’s the most okay I’ve been since Reno.”
His eyes flared with heat and something else. “Good,” he rumbled. “Me too.”
The next day
Lucky
Cade put the phone down, his face blank.
Lucky jerked his knee in frustration, knowing he couldn’t shoot his president, one of his best friends, out of impatience, but he was fuckin’ tempted.
“Tuckers want a meet.” He’d addressed the table, but his gaze flickered to Lucky.
He laughed. “They got a fuckin’ ounce of sense? They want a meet, they’ll get one. They’ll be meetin’ the fuckin’ reaper.”
Gage slammed his fist down on the table. “A-fucking-men.”
Cade’s eyes focused on him. “They say they had no hand in what went on in that warehouse.”
“They’re fuckin’ liars,” Lucky exploded.
Cade nodded. “I expect they are. But they’re also not stupid. They know we’ve got our brothers in from different charters.” He nodded to Jagger, who was there from New Mexico, the rest of his crew set to arrive in the next few days. The scarred brother grinned back. “So we’re not outnumbered. They’re rats jumpin’ from a sinkin’ ship. Devlin’s sinking ship.”
Brock cracked his knuckles, his fury palpable. Devlin’s father had kidnapped his old lady, nearly killed her. Now that his son was in charge, the brother was intent on ending the entire family line.
“We’ll take the meet,” Cade decided.
I can’t shoot my president.
“Are you fuckin’ insane?” Gage clipped.
Cade smiled. “No, but you are.”
The balding man in a suit, a fucking pinstripe suit, leaned back in his chair. “We regret this entire chain of events, Cade. Made bad decisions in our choices of business partners. That’s all. Our family had nothing to do with your… misfortunes.”
Lucky stood behind his prez and had to restrain himself from reaching for his gun. The itch was so bad his body was shaking.
“Misfortune?” he spat, stepping forward. He ignored how the fuck’s goons stood with his movements. “You call kidnapping and almost killin’ my woman misfortune? I call it suicide.” He didn’t even notice the guns pointed at his head until Cade’s hand lifted in a lowering motion.
“Easy, brother,” he muttered. Lucky’s gaze flickered to the old man, who hadn’t even stood. The fuck was arrogant enough to think he was untouchable. He would soon learn. “Mr. Tucker,” Cade addressed him. “You’ll kindly ask your sons to lower their guns.” His voice was even but there was a threat in his tone, as if he were the one holding the firepower. Which he technically was, but they weren’t to know that—yet.
Tucker jerked his head at the men, who immediately complied. “I understand tensions are running high, but you will believe me when I say our family was innocent in that crime. And as a show of regret of how we connected with the wrong people, we’re willing to give you all the information we have on Mr. Devlin. As a gesture of peace.” He nodded to the man at his left, who laid a paper on the table.