Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Oh, hey, Jo!” he calls when he spots me. He collects an apple from the tray on the counter. “Don’t you have a rally thing today?”
“Yep.” I flip my wrist to check the time. “I should get going, actually. I want to get there early before parking gets too crazy.”
“Oh, no. Did I ruin it?” Ricardo glances at Daphne guiltily. “I can leave. I’m headed out right now. Have to make a run anyway.”
Daphne and I both laugh. “No, it’s okay, Ricardo. I really do need to go,” I tell him. “Thank you for caring, though.” At least someone’s husband does.
Ricardo gives me a nod and I collect my purse. I eye the croissant, and Daphne walks around the table, picking it up and sliding it into the box it was originally in. She hands the box to me, and I carry my gaze to hers.
“Don’t let it control you,” she murmurs.
I press my lips, and with her words lingering, I take the box and leave the kitchen.
FIVE
DAPHNE
My smile collapses when Jolene pulls out of my driveway. I close the door and make my way back to the kitchen, finding my husband next to the table with my half-bitten croissant in hand.
“She asked me to talk to you,” I say, clearing the teacups from the table.
I glance at Ricardo, who inclines a brow. “About what?” he asks, mouth half full.
“Things with her husband are not okay. Did you see the bruise on her wrist? She needs our help, Ric.”
Ricardo chews a bit more before placing the remainder of the croissant back down on the plate. His brows pucker as he dusts crumbs off his shirt. “This is why you never should’ve told her,” he grumbles.
“I know. But she’s my best friend, Ric, and it just slipped, I swear. She won’t tell anyone.”
“I hope she doesn’t, and I’m not saying that for our sake. I’m saying it for hers.” He approaches me as I lower the cups into the sink. My husband, though devilishly handsome, can be intimidating. Perhaps that’s because I know what he does for a living. To many, his career would be frowned upon. It’s not your traditional job, but it makes him a ton of money.
“Is that a threat, babe?” I ask as he closes a hand around my waist. He reels me forward so our bodies merge and bows his head so our lips touch. I can’t help smiling. As daunting as he is, I still get turned on. Those hands of his have done unspeakable things, yet they’re so tender on me.
“No, it’s not a threat. More like a promise. I know she’s your friend, but we can’t jeopardize what we have just because her life isn’t smooth sailing. Make sure she stays wise with the information she has about us because at the end of the day, it’s us before everyone else.”
He plants a warm kiss on my lips, tasting of chocolate and buttery bread and I sigh behind it, lacing my arms around the back of his neck. I drop my hands to his waist, feeling something hard beneath his shirt. His pistol. He never leaves home without it. I give him one last kiss before he takes off.
When I’m finished cleaning the kitchen, I shoot Jolene a text: He’s not refusing to help but you have to be sure and you have to keep it quiet.
SIX
DOMINIC
It’s a surprisingly warm day for it to be the end of October in the Carolinas. Dominic is sweating through his suit. It doesn’t help that he’s had two cups of coffee this morning during his meeting with the team. His nerves are shot, and the paranoia has stolen his peace.
He points his gaze to Jolene to see if she’s sweating too, but of course Jolene is in pristine condition. Not a bead of sweat on her as she stares at the screen of her phone. She wears cream pants and a white blouse that makes her appear angelic, though he knows she’s anything but. Her singlet braids are pulled into a neat bun with a handful swooped into a side bang. Her pearl earrings dangle from her tiny earlobes, and though she has a good bit of makeup on her dark bronze skin, none of it runs.
Perhaps he’s hotter than usual because of the call with Boaz this morning. Stress drives the body wild, and he’s been crammed with it in less than five hours.
“Do you want some water?” Jolene asks, eyeing him. Why is she looking at him like that? What does she know?
He finds relief when his wife shifts her attention to his assistant, Melissa, who stands beneath the shade of the tent, her brunette hair pulled into a bun so tight it seems she’s gotten Botox. She offers waters to the attendees, and Jolene waltzes over to grab one. When she returns with it, Dominic guzzles the water down rapidly.