Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I cock my head. “I didn’t come here with an army. Just one little girl.”
I know she’s far from that, but Garrett Ames thinks all women are deaf, dumb, and blind. Pretty sure that she’s of no consequence to him.
But still, Krisjen teases, “Are you saying I don’t know how to handle a single guy? I can handle lots of guys.”
I laugh, surprising myself. Jerome’s gaze darts from her to me, and I squeeze her hand. “I know how deadly you are,” I tell her.
Wiping the smile off my face, I zone in on Ames. “You want two hundred acres,” I tell him, cutting to the chase. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.
“Give or take,” he says. “In exchange, you get approvals from the city council for your permits. Plus, you get to put out a contract for construction.”
All of which I could have anytime I wanted. Sanoa Bay is going to have streets. Proper paved streets. Finally.
But I’d rather not strong-arm anyone on this, so I’ll let him think he can get for me what I can’t get for myself.
“What do you want the acreage for?” I ask.
“A solar field. Why do you want the permits?”
“Infrastructure.”
He gives me one of those “Bless your heart” smiles. “Kind of like making beds in a burning house, isn’t it?”
I grind my teeth together. They’ve been saying that shit for years. And we’re still there. I haven’t given up the land. I haven’t even given up a single acre.
Jerome steps forward, eyeing me. “Allying yourself with the Collinses might buy you some room, but allying yourself with her …” He gestures to Krisjen. “Buys you nothing with the Conroys.”
I almost whisper. “That’s not why we like her,” I taunt.
My sister has Clay, and Clay’s father has been generous with help and pulling some strings, but I never asked for it. And while I appreciate anything that makes my life easier, I would’ve been fine on my own.
Garrett Ames holds my eyes, and I know he’s about to threaten me or readjust my reality as if I don’t know that everything that I have will be his if I’m just suddenly gone one day.
But before anyone can say anything, Krisjen speaks up. “Doesn’t the state offer tax rebates for land dedicated to solar energy?”
Yes, but … And then I realize where she’s going with this.
“That’s true.” I gaze at Ames. “An acre is roughly … forty-three thousand square feet. That equals over four hundred kilowatts of solar panels multiplied by two hundred acres. You’re talking a utility scale project.”
“You could just rent the land instead,” Krisjen chirps, oh so innocently. “It would eventually pay you more than they will.”
I smile. “Very true.”
Ames’s eyes turn hard on her, then he steps up to me. “I’m only interested in what I can own. I don’t need a landlord,” he bites out. “You have something I need. I have something you need. Think about it. You have a week. And then I stop acting like you’re of any consequence in all of this.”
For the first time in a long time, my arms feel strong. Fire and heat course under my skin, and I hope he tries.
He takes the last step up to me, lowering his voice. “And I know Dallas liked to fuck my son,” he tells me.
Krisjen jerks her gaze to me. “Callum?” she murmurs.
Yep. Callum Ames. Her classmate in high school and an arrogant, predatory piece of shit.
I don’t answer out loud, though. It’s not my place to air Dallas’s business. I’m just glad it lasted only a month, and that Garrett Ames doesn’t want anyone to know about it any more than I do.
Callum, his all-American, frat boy dickhead of a son wanted everyone to think he screwed girls, but it was my brother he really wanted.
But he was also only seventeen when he hooked up with Dallas. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to get Dallas out of that if Callum’s father decided to pursue action.
Thankfully, Callum is off at college, and hopefully, he never comes back. If he does, it won’t be good. He wasn’t happy when my brother ended it.
“If they ever touch each other again,” Ames warns, “the Bay will be visited by people who get paid in cash and know how to make even bones disappear. And then it’ll be visited by bulldozers next. You know what’s better than two hundred acres? Two thousand.”
He backs away, telling me again, “You have a week.”
He turns and heads for the stairs, Jerome slowly following. “You can’t survive,” he tells us. “Everyone knows it but you.”
He spins around, both of them climbing the stairs to the restaurant.
Still holding Krisjen’s hand, I walk hard, back to the bike.
I want him to choke on every grain of sand in the Bay.