Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“Baby, you need me?”
“Yes.” Her fingers find my towel, tugging, and then it’s pooled around our feet. “Can you be fast?”
“Oh, I can be supersonic when I want to be—”
“Ready when you are, sis,” Memphis interrupts, a heavy knock on the fucking door.
Motherfucker.
Davis’s eyes fly to mine, low and dilated, but I know we’re done here. For now.
Sensing my concern, her frown settles in. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like you out alone.”
She grins, loving my protectiveness, but she’s missing the point. “I’ll be with Memphis.”
That’s the problem, Sweets. He is the problem.
As much as I hate it, this is a good opportunity to figure out what he’s up to. I might not be mixed in the life he dragged me into anymore, but many men have stumbled into my bar over the years, some from the years I want to forget, some joining it after I was free of the life they lived. Either way, I have people I can ask without drawing attention.
Sighing, I kiss her lips, squeeze her ass, and make a promise. “Tonight.”
“Tonight.” She beams.
“Keep your phone charged and in your back pocket, not in your bag.”
She smiles, not requiring an explanation. “Yes, caveman.”
She walks out the door, and I’m right behind her, my phone on my dash, tracking her location with every mile driven.
Thank fuck she took Willie’s offer to park the Chevy in the empty lot behind his brewhouse until her apartment had a second parking space added to the lease. The last thing she needs is the guilt that would follow if Memphis saw it and realized it really was hers now.
Will she tell him about the truck anyway?
Does he even know she graduated college?
Does he even remember the contingency in place in their grandfather’s will? That the truck would go to the first Franco grandchild to graduate college.
Sure, her dad sent it to the shop before she was done, let her pay for the parts and labor, if needed, just as he did Memphis. And, like Memphis, if she couldn’t keep her end of the deal, he would honor his dad’s wishes and take it back.
He knew his daughter would never drop out of college, like his son did and never get kicked out like his foster son did.
Knowing the man, he likely put the title in her name the day he realized Memphis was lost and didn’t want to be found.
Davis never did catch on to that. On one hand, I hope she won’t have to, but on the other, I wish she’d figure it out now to save herself the hurt of his backslide.
I try to focus on the paperwork in front of me, but it’s no use. The words and numbers and bullshit are all running together, and I can’t fucking sit here anymore, so I head down to the bar, my mind reeling.
I want to know what time they woke up and what they talked about this morning. Did they have hours to speak about a lot? Did she ask him where he’s been and what he’s been doing?
Is she asking him now?
Will he lie to her face?
Does he have reason to lie?
Are you being a paranoid prick?
Groaning, I shake my head.
I hate that I have to worry like this. I should be able to trust the man she’s loved longer and deeper than anyone else in her life, the one she’d give anything for, always, without question, but I can’t. For her sake, and for mine, I fucking can’t because I refuse to watch him destroy her.
Closing myself inside the bar, I start on the main floor, putting some music on and get busy. One by one, I remove all the bottles from the shelves along the back wall, cleaning the mirror behind them even though Paula did four nights ago. Digging out the LED strips I bought a while back, but never took the time to put on, I tear them open and roll them out, sticking them to the underside of each shelf to keep the strips hidden and to allow the bright colors to beam against the bottles that’ll be beneath it.
Once it’s all back in place, I polish the bar top, the tables, and the frame of the stage. I shine the silver of the stools and swap the VIP tables around a bit.
I’m knee-deep in bleach when Drew’s shoes come into view. “Damn, brother. Fuck up so soon?”
Huffing, I drop back on my ass, glaring up at him.
He offers me a hand, so I slap my palm in his, letting him tug me up.
Eye to eye, my brother looks deeper, a frown building across his brow. “What happened? Where is she?”
“Memphis is back.”
My brother’s face falls flat. “Oh fuck.”
“Yeah.” Oh fuck is right.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Davis
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried, but really, why would I, when my life is literally all I ever wanted it to be?