Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
"Dammit." I scrub a hand down my face. "Can you at least give me a few days to ease her into the idea? She may bolt if you show up now. She's scared, man." And I'm going to lose my mind if she runs. Literally lose it.
"You found her sleeping in the barn?"
"Yeah."
His expression softens. "I'll give you a few days while I look into this. I'd rather bring that prick down anyway. He gets on my fucking nerves."
"Who doesn't get on your nerves?"
"My wife, my kids, and like three other people in town." He smirks at me. "You aren't one of them."
I flip him off, which makes him chuckle. "You going to arrest me if I go to Burkett's to pick up all of her shit?"
"You going to cause problems while you're there?"
"Probably."
He throws his head back, laughing. "You're supposed to lie, motherfucker."
"What's the point of that? If he pisses me off, I'm going to cause problems. And the odds of him pissing me off are high." Because of him, she was sleeping in a stall in the barn. I'm mad as hell about it.
Dillon shakes his head, climbing to his feet. "I'll escort you. It's better than staring at these goddamn dick pics, trying to figure out which of you assholes is fucking with me this time."
"Uh, you know that's not a dick pic, right?"
"It's a dick, and I've got a picture. It's a dick pic," he growls.
I don't argue. Not my cock, not my problem.
When we pull up outside of Burkett's, I kind of want to burn his place to the ground just on principle. The bastard lives in a mansion big enough to house about fifteen barns. His lawn is perfectly landscaped, not a single blade of grass out of place. Even the fucking bushes are carved into shapes.
He's living in the lap of luxury, lying and cheating just because he can, while Morgan is sleeping in a stall, terrified out of her mind because of him.
Unfortunately for me, he isn't home. His new maid is, though.
As soon as she sees Dillon behind me, her face pales. She tries to argue about letting us in—probably on orders from her asshole boss—but her arguments die quickly when I explain why we're there.
She reluctantly leads us to the small apartment where Morgan stayed. My blood pressure climbs when I see it. The goddamn thing is the size of a closet. Everything she owns is in boxes, shoved into a corner.
That prick doesn't even have the decency to give his staff space to breathe, while he lives alone in a mansion big enough to fit a quarter of the town.
It takes me and Dillon all of ten minutes to load her stuff in the back of my truck. I'm on my way back to the ranch in another ten, hoping like hell that she's still there when I get there.
My heart is beating out of my chest when I pull up outside the cabin to find her on the front porch.
Jesus.
She stayed.
"Hey," I drawl when she hurries down the steps toward me.
"Hi," she whispers.
"I got your stuff."
She peeks into the back of the truck, her face lighting up. Christ, she's beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it hurts to look at her.
"You're the nicest kidnapper I've ever met," she says, beaming at me.
My goddamn knees go weak.
"Uh…how many kidnappers have you met?" I ask, my voice gritty.
She thinks about it and then laughs, the sweet sound bouncing across the yard. "Just you, I guess. Well, there was this one guy who was…" She trails off, her laughter dying.
"Tell me."
She hesitates. "Uh, he was in prison with my dad. I met him once." Her gaze stays firmly on the boxes in the back of the truck. "He says he didn't do it, but I guess they all say that, huh?"
"Look at me, Calamity."
She shakes her head.
"Look at me, baby."
She turns reluctantly, her gaze meeting mine.
"I knew about your dad before I offered you a home here," I murmur. "It doesn't change anything. My dad was in prison, too."
"Really? Why?"
"Drugs."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." I tip her head back, meeting her gaze. "You aren't him, just like I'm not my dad, okay?"
"Okay," she whispers.
I want to kiss her again. Actually, I want to fucking devour her, just lick into her mouth and keep going until neither of us can breathe.
What is she doing to me? More importantly…what the fuck am I going to do about it? I've never wanted this before. I never even considered it. Love and happily-ever-after are just fairytales, meant for people who still believe in shit like that.
I've never believed in it, not after watching my mom spend her entire life loving a man who never loved her the way she deserved. No matter how many times he broke her heart and let him down, she still kept waiting for him, kept holding out hope that this time, he actually meant it.