Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I made it to the boat just in time to see the crew loading our people for the night onto the boat.
I gave my “first mate,” a chin lift and went upstairs to the tower.
After starting the boat, I waited for everyone to be seated and headed out.
With the biggest fucking smile on my face.
Goddamn, was this what happiness felt like?
I rubbed my chest and was sure.
This was definitely what happiness felt like.
CHAPTER 21
Him: just a word, yet one person came to mind.
-Morrigan’s secret thoughts
MORRIGAN
The doorbell rang about twenty minutes after Aodhan left for his overnight fishing charter, and I frowned when I got up to answer it.
On the other side were Danyetta and Bowie.
“Do you mind if he stays the night here?” she asked, looking worried. “I’ve had something happen at the restaurant that I’m fairly sure is going to take me all night. Faulty vent hood. But I can’t leave him alone, for obvious reasons.”
I winced at that.
“Damn, Bowie,” I teased. “There you go makin’ a mess of things.”
He flashed a grin at me, but surprisingly, he looked awfully hopeful.
“Come on in,” I said, waving at Danyetta that it was “okay.” “I was just about to order a pizza.”
Actually, I was about to do no such thing. I was about to go to bed without food because I was too tired to eat. Yet, a second wind came over me at the sight of the boy-man that was now taking up quite a bit of my—Aodhan’s—living room.
“Pizza sounds great,” he smiled gratefully. “Love you, Mom. I’ll be okay.”
Danyetta waved, then she was gone, all but running to her car.
Poor woman.
I would hate to have to answer to emergencies in the middle of the night.
Luckily, my coffee shop wasn’t open, and the apartment complex I owned had a night manager that dealt with anything that came up unexpectedly—though she was paid in free rent for that.
“What movie are you watching?” Bowie asked as he looked at the screen.
I grinned sheepishly.
“Actually,” I said as I pressed pause on the show to show him. “I’m watching old reruns of Chips. The old seventies show that had two motorcycle LA highway patrolmen. It’s one of the only things that my dad used to let me watch when I was a kid—he controlled every single bit of my childhood like that—and it’s one of those things that I turn on when I can’t find anything else to watch.”
“Ahh,” he sat down. “Do you want me to order from the app?”
He showed me his phone, and I sat down gratefully.
Truthfully, I’d been wavering in energy since the shower earlier.
Not that it wasn’t the best thing ever—to have sex with Aodhan—but damn, did it wear me out.
Not that I would ever tell him that, either.
I’d be damned if he stopped.
“Sure,” I said. “I want the smallest pizza they have. With extra, extra cheese.”
He nodded his head in understanding, then his fingers flew.
My phone dinged on the table beside me, and I reached for it and smiled when I saw the message.
Aodhan—at the losing signal spot. Love you.
My heart all but melted. We hadn’t exactly said “I love you” since we’d reconnected, though we both felt it, and showed it.
Me: Love you, too.
Sadly, it went green, indicating that he was most definitely out of cell range.
That had to be the worst part about him taking these trips out to nowhere. The not being able to get a hold of him thing.
If there was ever an emergency, it’d have to wait until he got back for him to know anything was wrong.
“Ordered,” Bowie said as he sat back. “I saw they started putting up new drywall in your store today.”
Etienne had pushed my shop to the front of the line—a perk that Matilda said was being part of Gator Bait MC—and within a few days, I would have walls, and could start working on the counters.
Everything in the back had survived, so it was my guess that I’d have the shop up and running within a few weeks. Which actually kind of bummed me out. The whole having downtime thing was excellent.
“Why do you look so bummed?” he asked curiously, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms across his chest, and leveling me with a curious stare that reminded me so much of his father it hurt.
Eyes that I trusted because of who they came from.
“I’m not sure that working is for me,” I admitted. “I didn’t realize just how tired I was. The thought of going back to work really sucks. This last week of sleeping in and doing nothing has been so nice. Not having to worry about getting milk for the lattes, or oh, shit, the credit card machine is down, or whoops, well there goes a leak in the men’s bathroom…that is so nice.”