Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“You’re not listening. Lav is—”
“Don’t call her that,” I snap, curling my hand around the apple.
“What?”
Like a snake striking, I’m up from the desk, the apple bouncing to the floor as I wrap my hands in his jacket. “Your sister would appreciate it if you used her full name,” I enunciate carefully. Okay, through gritted teeth.
“Piss off! You’ve only known her five minutes,” he says, trying to smack my hand away. “Don’t try to tell me about my own fucking sister.”
“Who also happens to be my wife.”
“Yeah, and I’m wondering what kind of idiot that makes you.”
Tension flares in my biceps, my fingers tightening on his lapels. But if I was going to hurt this idiot, it would’ve happened before now. Maybe that was my first mistake because if I had hurt him, he wouldn’t be standing here now, cocksure and insolent.
“Get the fuck out.” My arm moves like a piston, propelling him in the direction of the door. I didn’t like him before. I like him a whole lot less now.
“You’ve got this all wrong,” he says, straightening from his stumble. He pulls on the front of his jacket. “But I get it. I really do. You want to hurt me. You want revenge.”
“If I wanted revenge, I would’ve burned your fucking house down months ago.”
“Steady on.” He blinks, shaking off his shock. “Talk about overreacting.”
“Did Polly drop you on your head when you were young?” What is it with this idiot?
“Look, Lav—I mean, Lavender, she’s gonna drive you insane.”
“Maybe I like insanity,” I retort, moving closer. “Maybe I’m insane myself. You ever think of that?”
“I hear you’re more reasonable than others with similar business practices.”
Fuck. I should’ve beaten him to a pulp already.
Too late now. Lavender probably wouldn’t like it.
“You’re not even her type.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“She has a thing for wounded birds, my sister. And that’s only because she gets to pluck off their wings.”
“That’s bullshit.” And he knows it.
“Is it? Tod’s been trotting behind her like a Pekinese for two years now. All sad eyes and panting tongue. She says ‘jump,’ and the idiot asks how high. Roll over, Tod, and he does. Just so she can kick him in the balls.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Tod. And I don’t give a fuck about you.”
“What about Lavender? You give a fuck about her, or are you just fucking her?”
I lunge for him again, though he jerks out of reach, careening in the direction of the opening door.
“What the fuck!”
“Oi!” Lavender complains from the other side as it slams shut on her. When she opens it a second time, I have Brin in my grip.
“What’s going on?” Lavender’s brows lift expectantly.
“He tripped on the carpet,” I say, glancing at it for veracity’s sake. “Didn’t you, Brin?”
“Yeah.” Brin frowns warily. “You want one of those rug grips on it.”
“Or you could just watch where you’re going,” Lavender suggests.
“Yeah, you really ought to watch where you step.” My delivery is light, words like a stone skimming over water. “Wouldn’t like to see you get hurt.”
“Got it,” he says. At last.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I came to see Raif. On business.”
“What business?” Lavender seems unconvinced. Stepping closer, she punches him playfully in the chest in a quick one-two motion.
“Nothing that’s got anything to do with you.”
“Fuck off.” Lavender pulls a face. It’s an iteration I haven’t seen, but one her brother obviously has.
“This is exactly what I was talking about,” he mutters, his eyes darting my way.
Idiot.
“You two have been talking about me.” Her attention pings between us.
“No,” says Brin.
At the same time, I answer, “Yes.”
Lavender’s brow quirks. “Which is it, then?”
“I know this might come as a shock, but not everything in the world is about you, Lavender.”
I slide her brother a disgusted look. “Brin is here in his capacity as older brother to warn me to be good to you.”
Lavender snorts.
“If only he’d called ahead, I could’ve saved him a journey. Your mother beat him to it.”
“What?” And there’s that expression again.
“She dropped into my office this morning. I must say, Polly delivered her threats with much more class.”
“Steel fist in a velvet glove, that woman,” Brin mutters.
“You didn’t say she’d been to see you,” Lavender says, ignoring him.
“I was being diplomatic.”
“And you were being a dick about it, I suppose?” This she delivers Brin’s way.
“That’s fucking charming!” he complains.
“I suppose that’ll be the reason he tripped,” she says airily, eyebrows riding high.
“Why do you assume this is my fault?” Brin bleats. “You’ve only known him five minutes!”
But he’s not really hurt by her assumption. I’m also not really flattered, either. Her loyalty is owed to me. She has five million reasons for it.
Besides, this looks like a scene that has played out between them before.
“It’s because I know you that I assume it’s your fault.”