Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
That all happened because of Ford. He saved my life, both in and out of the military. And for that, I’ll always be there for him … even if it means taking jobs I don’t love.
“I have a couple of meetings today,” Ford says, standing. Lincoln gets to his feet, too. “Want to ride with me? We can get some lunch on the way back.”
“Can I come?” Lincoln asks. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
Ford’s shoulder bumps his brother.
“Sure,” I say. “Let me take care of a few things in here first.”
“Not a problem. I have a couple of things to do, anyway.” He opens the door but turns back to me. “Oh—hey. One more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Stop in and see Dahlia. She said she thought your phone might be dead this morning.” Ford grins.
Of course, she did. “Sure thing.”
I get to my feet, straighten my tie, then slide my phone into my pocket. Something stirs in the pit of my stomach, sending a burst of energy rippling through my veins.
Lincoln and I might not be that different after all. We’re both afraid of the women in our lives. Just for very, very different reasons.
Chapter Two
Dahlia
“A drink this weekend would be nice,” I say, gazing across the manicured lawn outside my office window. “How about Friday after work?”
My best friend, Morgan, cheers through the phone.
“Stop it,” I say, laughing. “It hasn’t been that long. I just saw you two weeks ago.”
“It feels like forever. Between my work trip and your relationship issues—”
“I don’t have relationship issues anymore.” I pivot on my heel. “I’m free to meet you for drinks—ah!” My hand claps against my chest. “Damn you, Troy.”
My heart skips a beat as I come to a screeching halt.
It’s hard enough to stay calm when I have time to brace myself for Troy’s presence. It’s damn near impossible to appear unaffected when he blindsides me.
He sits across from my desk, relaxed in a chair, his knees spread. A quick glance would give the impression that he’s casually waiting for me to end my conversation. A deeper look says otherwise.
Troy Castelli’s square jaw is tight. His gray eyes are nothing short of thunderstorm clouds just before lightning strikes. His elbow rests against the arm of the chair, and the pad of his thumb strokes his bottom lip as if he’s deciding my fate.
He’s a whole damn mood—a sexy, dangerous vibe that steals my breath.
“Pull yourself together,” Morgan hisses through the phone. “I hear you panting from here.”
I laugh, letting out a breath and standing taller. “I’m sorry about that, Morgan. A co-worker just rudely entered my office without knocking.”
Troy lifts one brow and drops his hand. He couldn’t look more bored if he tried.
“If you play your cards right, that won’t be all he enters.” She snickers.
“Drinks Friday, right?” I ask, ignoring her. “I’ll call you later this week to pick a time and place.”
“Yes, and don’t try to bail on me. I need this.”
I smile, holding Troy’s gaze as I approach my desk. “I need it, too. Talk soon.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and place my phone next to my computer. Troy’s eyes peer into mine as I get seated.
“Theo knocks,” I say.
“As he should.”
“As he should, huh?” I ask, leaning against my desk. “Then why shouldn’t you?”
Troy only stares at me.
This man. “You’re extra grumpy today. Want me to get you a snack?”
A wry little smile quirks his mouth.
I roll my eyes and awaken my computer. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with you.”
“Who was on the phone?”
I peer at him over my shoulder. “What?”
“Who was on the phone?” He sits up, holding my gaze hostage. “It didn’t sound like a work conversation.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re meeting them for drinks on Friday—location to be determined. That sounds like a personal appointment to me.”
I pull a Troy on him and lift a brow, giving him my best disinterested look. What he can’t see are my insides melting into a pile of goo.
Troy and I have worked together since my first day at Landry Security. On paper, we shouldn’t mesh well at all. He’s moody and sullen. I wake up happy. He’s pragmatic and sensible—infuriatingly so at times. I’m optimistic about most things, which irritates him to no end. Troy wants to keep everyone at arm’s length, and I’m a hugger in every sense of the word. Despite all of that, we click.
Somehow.
“I wouldn’t call it an appointment,” I say, pulling my coffee mug toward me. I inhale a deep breath, hoping to fill my senses with the wonderful aroma of coffee. Instead, I get a lungful of Troy’s cologne. It’s seductive and masculine—promising excitement and a hint of danger.
It’s fitting.
“What would you call it?” he asks.
The edge to his voice sends a chill down my spine. “I’d call it none of your business.”