Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“I haven’t told him, if that’s what you mean. Why on earth would I?”
To make him understand you! But Danny talks to Brad and James. James is close to Otto. I’m thinking he has to know. “Do you like Otto?” I ask, and she looks at me. Of course she does. I’ve only ever seen him be patient and gentle around her. “Daniel thinks he’s in love with you.” I smile when she lets out a bark of laughter.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her hand instinctively goes to her hair and fixes it. “Danny’s probably right. He’s likely after one thing.”
I outwardly express my annoyance. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”
Esther withdraws, putting some distance between us.
“Esther.” I sigh. “Hiatus is full of young, willing women that Otto has access to. He’s been a total grouch since he’s been here.”
She peeks out the corner of her eye. “He was annoyed I stayed in St. Lucia. He was annoyed Danny insisted, but I understood Danny wanted to reassure you, and you wanted me to stay with Daniel there.”
Oh? The crafty little fucker. “He told you . . .” I fade off. There’s no point burdening Esther with her son’s conniving stunt. Just wait until I find him. “You need to talk to Danny. Tell him how you feel. Tell him to stand down.”
“Danny? We’re talking about the same man?”
“Yes. You’re letting your guilt rule your life. Enough.” I stand and she looks up at me, alarmed. “He cannot tell you who to be or who to see. You can be his mom and be a woman too. You’ve paid your dues. Now it should be about you.” I dip and kiss her cheek. “Life is too short to stroke egos, Mom. He’ll have to get used to it. Look on the bright side. At least you know Otto can take care of himself. Imagine if you fell in love with a wimp?”
I leave the kitchen and Esther behind chuckling. “Wait!” she yells. “In love? I’m not in love with him.”
I roll my eyes, but I melt too. They’ve not even been intimate, and the feelings are obviously strong. My husband needs to back the hell off.
I make my way to Danny’s office, walking in without knocking. It’s empty. So I go to the TV room. No Danny. I go to the gym. No Danny. But James is standing on his head and Beau is lying on the mat before him, her chin resting on her palms as she watches him. “Have you seen Danny?” I whisper.
She shakes her head.
“I saw him heading upstairs.” James doesn’t open his eyes. I throw a little wave to Beau, backing out, leaving them to their . . . workout?
I hurry upstairs, down the corridor, and push my way into our bedroom.
He’s face first on the bed, sprawled out, fully dressed.
Snoring.
I sigh and pad over, climbing on next to him and stroking his hair from his face. He murmurs. Grunts a few times. I rest my head on the pillow next to him and watch him sleeping. It’s the only time he looks peaceful these days.
“Sleep well,” I whisper, kissing his head.
It’s not long before I’m gone too.
His pained groan wakes me, his body squirming lethargically next to me. “Fuck me, that hurts,” he complains, groaning more, making tiny movements and stopping, slumping, moving, stopping, moaning.
“What hurts?”
“Shoulders,” he hisses. “Arms. Chest.” His head lifts and then drops back down heavily. “Everything. Everything aches.”
I prop myself up on my elbow and stroke his back. He’s not moved position since I found him last night. “You know I hate you,” I mumble.
“Yep, and I hate you more,” he says easily, and I smile. I can’t help it. God, I love this man.
I’m sure he’d rather be more awake for this conversation, but, honestly, who knows when we’ll get another minute to ourselves? “You used me, you shit.”
“For what?”
“To keep your mom in St. Lucia away from Otto.” I won’t mention Lennox Benson. Not now. We have enough grievances, and the man is inconsequential, really.
“Yeah, I did that,” he says, sighing, obviously without the energy to deny it. “But she’s back so you can stow away the sass.”
Never. The conversation I had with Esther last night is playing on my mind. Perhaps now is the time to convince Danny to back off, since he looks quite immobile. “She’s a wom—”
“I’m in pain, Rose,” he mumbles into the pillow. “Moody. Don’t make it worse.”
I narrow my eyes on the back of his head. Fine, but we will be talking about it. Onto my next issue. “Daniel knows what you do.”
“Jet skis?”
“No, not jet skis. He saw an article in the paper about you and James.” What I can see of his jaw tenses.
“Right.” He goes to get up, like who have I got to kill? Then drops back down on a howl of pain. “Jesus fucking Christ.”