Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Next door, getting introduced to classic rock by Colton,” said JD. I listened and made out crashing drums and wailing guitars soaking through the wall. JD handed me a cup of coffee. Nothing had ever smelled so good.
He had the doors to the balcony open and we went out there, both of us leaning on the stone parapet and looking out over Central Park as we sipped our coffee. “Guess we’d better talk about what happens now,” he said, eyes crinkling as he gazed at the city. “You don’t need guarding anymore.”
My whole body tensed.
He turned to me, his voice like iron. “But I’m sure as hell not letting you go.”
I pressed my lips together hard, melting inside. Then I threw my arms around him and hugged him so tight that he knew I wasn’t letting go of him, either.
“Did some thinking while you were asleep,” he told me. He looked out at New York and grimly shook his head. “I ain’t sure I belong here. But you and Cody are here. So…”
I stared at him, stunned. “What about Colorado? What about the team?” I looked at New York and then I looked at JD. He’d put on a clean white shirt and his blue jeans and boots, the same outfit I’d first seen him in, and he looked amazing. And just as out of place in New York as he’d always been. “You’d move here?”
He looked at me seriously. “I’d move to Mars if that’s where you were.”
I bit my lip. I was sure he could get a job here: private security firms would be fighting each other to get him. But I’d seen the bond he had with his team. I couldn’t split them up. But Cody was in school here and I had the company and all my projects. I felt it all tearing at me, overwhelming…
Then JD put a hand on my shoulder and, immediately, the warm solidness of him grounded me. I took a deep breath. “We’ll figure something out,” I told him.
He nodded slowly. “I got a notion how we can start.”
EPILOGUE
LORNA
One Month Later
“You got the steaks?” asked Esther Taggart.
“Yeah, ma,” said JD gently.
“The wine?”
“Yup.”
“The bacon, for the morning?”
JD patted a bulge in one of the bags.
“Well, alright then. You three have a good time.”
I beamed at JD’s mom. I’d only known her a day but I felt so blissfully relaxed in her company, not at all like when I’d met my ex’s family. Maybe it was because she was so much like JD: warm and uncomplicated and mainly concerned that her little boy had enough to eat. “See you in a few days,” I said, waving.
“Not if I see you first,” JD’s dad, Jack, shot back. He was nice, too, although he wasn’t big on conversation. He spent a lot of the time sitting on the porch, staring out at the landscape, only coming inside for meals. One wheel of his wheelchair squeaked something awful and was bent inwards in a way that made my engineer's brain wince, but he wouldn’t let me, JD or anyone else take a look at it for him, claiming it was fine just the way it was. Danny had been right: JD had learned his stoicism from his dad. When we got back from our trip, I was going to ask if he’d at least let me improve the wheelchair ramp so it didn’t keep sliding away from the porch, leaving a crevasse that trapped his wheels.
Right now, though, I had other things on my mind. Like trying not to fall off my horse.
“Ready?” asked JD. “Nice and slow…”
He made a noise in his throat, some magic word that only country folk know, and his horse set off obediently. Cody’s horse followed and then—ulp!—my pony lurched into motion and I clung onto the saddle for dear life. It was only my second time on a horse. JD had given Cody and me a basic riding lesson that morning but while Cody had turned out to be a natural, I was still getting used to the feeling of being atop the big, gentle creature.
“You’re doing great,” JD told me. He made it look effortless, bouncing and swaying as if he was part of the horse.
“Doesn’t—whoah—doesn’t feel that way,” I told him as my horse decided to speed up a little. I was way out of my comfort zone but in a good way, bemused and fascinated and only a little terrified. There was something wonderfully physical about being on a horse: it balanced and grounded me, just like JD. I tugged gently on the reins and my horse came to a dead stop and refused to start again. “I’m literally the world’s worst person at steering a horse.”
“You’ve never seen Erin ride,” said JD seriously. He gave my horse a look: what are you doing? And my horse snorted, shook itself in a kind of horse shrug, and walked on.