Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
She shook her head in wonder. “I never would have thought you’d be so possessive. You never struck me as particularly territorial.” Her snake hadn’t expected it of him either.
“I wasn’t until you.”
“Not even a little?”
“No.”
She felt her lips press into a thin line. “I find that hard to believe, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“The promise you made to Dayna. A promise you kept for over two and a half years.”
He pinned her gaze with an unblinking stare. “If it had been you who’d asked me to wait a year while you went to Australia, I’d have said no.”
Well, that was a direct shot to the heart. “Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t have been able to handle that you were out of my sight. I wouldn’t have been okay with the idea of you sleeping with other men, even if it was to alleviate touch-hunger.” He palmed the side of her neck. “I would have gone with you.”
Oh. “Well … we’re mates, so—”
“Even before imprinting started, when we weren’t positive this would go somewhere, I would have gone with you.”
Warmth filled her expanding chest, and a grin pulled at her mouth. “I’d find it hard to be away from me, so I totally get where you’re coming from.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Now,” she began, folding her arms, “want to tell me what Farrell and the enforcers were talking about earlier?”
He twisted his mouth. “Finley may have seen your cousin hanging around the lot. She’s not positive. As you know, loners show up to check things out and speak to tenants, so it’s not a weighty incident that a stranger was spotted.”
Bailey twirled her ankle. “I know his criminal history would suggest he has little self-preservation, but I don’t think Roman’s dumb enough to not lie low at a time like this. He’s good at hiding. It’s what he does when things go to shit. And why come back when Tate made it clear that our pride wouldn’t help or shield him?”
“We mentioned once before that it’s possible he’d want revenge against you for refusing to help him.”
“I know, but I don’t agree with that theory. People refuse to help him all the time. To my knowledge, he doesn’t pay extremists to give them crap. Plus, he’s a compulsive gambler. He spends—or, more accurately, wastes—whatever cash he has in casinos. He isn’t going to put some aside to place in the pockets of anyone, let alone extremists, for something unnecessary. Sending people to give me a scare isn’t necessary. And he’d know it’d take more than all the recent attacks to rattle me anyway.”
“True,” Deke allowed. “It would be a waste of his time and cash. I agree that it likely wasn’t him who Finley saw. She herself doubts it; she reported it all the same because it’s what she’s supposed to do.”
Her phone began to ring. Bailey snatched it off the table and answered, “Yo?”
“Oh my God, Bailey,” began one of her neighbors, “did you hear that Deke and Dayna had some kind of confrontation in the parking lot?”
For the love of all that was both holy and unholy. She started moaning. Whimpering. Panting. Groaning. Rasping “Oh, yes” over and over.
When the line went dead, she snickered and placed her phone back on the table.
Deke sighed, exasperation plain on his face. “Was that the first time you did that, or have you done it to every person who called to give you gossip just now?”
She bit her lip. “Do you want, like, an honest answer?”
“Of course I do, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
“You’d be surprised how often people don’t actually want honesty. A lot of the time, they just want you to say what they’d feel most comfortable hearing.”
“Well, I don’t. I want the truth.”
“Why?”
“Because I prefer honesty.”
“Why?”
His eyelid twitched. “Because I just do.”
“Then, yes, that was the first time today I faked an approaching orgasm down the phone to one of the gossipers.”
“Really?”
“No.”
He threw his head back and muttered something unflattering.
“Oh come on, I bring light to your life. Admit it.”
He once more fixed his gaze on hers, and his face went all soft. “Yeah. Yeah, as it happens, you do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A puff of hot air blasted Bailey’s face as she pulled open the dryer door. Nice. She wafted it away and then began pulling out her warm clothes and dumping them in the washing basket beside her.
Her building’s laundromat facilitates were located in the basement. Rows of industrial washing machines and dryers lined one of the off-white walls. The air would have been uncomfortably hot if it wasn’t for the overhead fans and the air conditioning. Particularly since the small, high windows always remained closed.
Humming to herself, she crossed to one of the folding tables, pushed aside the stray glove sitting there, and then set down her basket. Still humming, she tossed the dryer sheet in the garbage can beside the vending machine that contained detergent, softener, dryer sheets, and even snacks for those intending to hang around while their clothes finished their cycles.