His Saint Read Online Lucy Lennox (Forever Wilde #5)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Forever Wilde Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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“The ones that came with the vases,” I added. “Not any that would open a slope.”

“Right. So here’s the part where my family comes in.” He took a quick sip of water from the bottle before continuing. There were muffled sounds of people passing in the hallway outside the sparring room, but no one entered.

“The slope came into my possession almost a year ago when Grandfather gave it to me after Melody’s death. No one had mentioned it since then until this week. That day you helped me clean up the keys in the shop, my mother asked me to bring the slope to Dallas for dinner. I forgot it in my haste to get to the city, and that’s the night my car was broken into. At that dinner, my uncle Eric asked about the slope too. Then the night my grandfather showed up at the farmhouse, he asked to see the slope. I brought it out to him, not even thinking much about it since it had been his sister’s. Then tonight I got lured into town supposedly for my aunt’s birthday dinner, but when I arrived it was just my cousin Brett. Apparently everyone else had canceled. Then even Brett asked me about the damned slope.”

“What the hell is in that box?” I wondered out loud.

“Nothing. I mean, love letters. That’s it. I’ve read them a hundred times, Saint. It’s just letters back and forth between two young people in love. There’s no mention of buried treasure or hidden gold ingots. No historical significance outside of our family’s ancestry.”

“Did you tell Brett that?”

“Yes, but… ah… I may have also set a kind of… trap?”

I glanced at him and saw him looking down at his lap where his fingernail was plucking at an edge of the paper water bottle label.

Little Augie Stiel playing private detective? It kinda turned me on, if I was being honest.

“Come again, Five-Oh?”

Augie looked up at me with his typical worry divots front and center. “I told him I sold it. The box, I mean. And when he asked me where I put the papers, I told him they were in a wooden chest above the shop.”

“Where is the box itself? I’m assuming you didn’t actually sell it?”

“It’s at the farmhouse, hidden. But I don’t trust that people couldn’t find it if they looked hard enough.”

It wasn’t lost on me that he’d trusted me enough to tell me where it was without hesitation.

“Why don’t we go get it and put it in a safe-deposit box at the bank just in case? I don’t want anyone coming around to the farmhouse looking for it again.”

He shrugged. “I guess so, but I think I’d like another self-defense lesson just in case. This whole situation really gives me a bad feeling. I’m probably being paranoid.” Augie laughed and looked down at the bottle he was holding. I put my hand on his elbow to give him a reassuring squeeze, and he flinched. I stared at him before looking down at his elbow and seeing dark red marks like early bruises forming.

“Did he fucking touch you?” I growled, inspecting the marks more closely. Augie yanked his arm away but didn’t contradict me.

“Augie, answer me. Did that man hurt you? Who grabbed your elbow like this?”

“It’s fine,” he said to his feet. The poor man’s face was red, and he was clearly embarrassed. “You would have been proud of me actually. I barked at him to stop touching me at the same time I yanked out of his hold and took two giant strides back.”

My heart squeezed at the image. “Of course I’m proud of you, but I need you to consider some personal protection,” I said.

His eyes came up to search mine, and we locked gazes for a few long beats. Something seemed to pass between us then, but it was fleeting. It was there one moment and gone the next.

“What, like hiring a bodyguard?” he teased. The edges of his mouth were drawn up in a small grin, and I couldn’t help but do the same, letting the tone change so the tension would dissipate.

“Perhaps. I hear the good ones are scary and intimidating. Then there are the sleepy-kitten ones. You can probably get that kind at a discount.” I’d tried to soften my suggestion with humor, but I was really very serious about it.

He laughed a real laugh and pretended to punch me in the ribs. “Shut the fuck up. Just because you don’t scare me doesn’t mean you wouldn’t scare other people. Just don’t let them see you smile. That fucking tooth is too adorable to scare anyone.”

The minute the words were out of his mouth his entire face bloomed red, and I knew he regretted what he’d said. Too bad. It was out there, and I wasn’t about to let it go.



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