Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Did you ask her therapist about it?”
“Yeah, she told me it was normal. Kids don’t always process trauma like we do. I need to go online and see if I can order another one so I can at least clean it every once in a while.” She took in a deep breath, as if she could pack down her emotions.
“I’m glad she’s seeing someone.”
“I wish I could say the same for you.”
I crinkled my nose. “I promise I will…eventually.”
“It’s always eventually with you.” She flashed me a smile. “Anyway, enough with the heavy. Let’s get back to you and Devon.” She bumped me with her shoulder. “You have the face.”
“I know,” I admitted.
The oak shifted patches of sunlight across the blanket, and for a moment I just let myself exist within the memories of the night before.
“It was a really good night,” I confessed.
“Shit,” she breathed.
I glanced over to find her watching me with an expression that wasn’t quite disapproval, but wasn’t far from it either. This wasn’t unexpected. All she knew of Devon was that first day at the hotel in LA when the two of them had gone toe-to-toe. She hadn’t witnessed the slow beauty of his demeanor softening. She hadn’t seen his secret smiles, or felt his gentle touches, or watched the way a single look from him could talk my nervous system down from a ledge.
“Say it,” I told her.
She squinted one eye. “I don’t think you want me to.”
“When has that ever stopped you?”
She exhaled. “He’s your bodyguard, Lofton. He is literally employed to keep you alive. There are about seventeen different reasons this is complicated, and I’m genuinely concerned you’ve ignored all of them because he has a nice ass.”
“It’s not because of his ass.”
“I wouldn’t judge you if it were. He’s hot. I understand the appeal. But this is wildly unprofessional. I can’t believe Devon was willing to cross that line.”
I shot her a smirk. “What line?”
“Okay. Forget unprofessional. You said he made you cry three times in the first week.”
“He also took me to say goodbye to Marty in the middle of the night when nobody else thought to even tell me about his funeral.” I looked at her steadily. “He fed my horses so I could sleep. He called you.” I gestured broadly at the farm, at Zoey still at the fence conducting what appeared to be diplomatic negotiations with Beans. “He did all of this.”
“I know.” She picked at the loose thread on the edge of the blanket. “I know he did. And it was a genuinely sweet thing to do. But we’ve been here before, remember?”
I narrowed my eyes until understanding dawned.
I hadn’t been there before. But she had.
And that man had absolutely wrecked her.
“You’re talking about Jason.”
She didn’t answer right away. She didn’t have to.
I’d been there for every horrifying moment of her relationship with Jason.
Jason Horton had been one of Arrow’s new recruits. He’d been absolutely thrilled when Marty had brought him for a job at my birthday party. Those stars in his eyes had died when Marty threw a pink flamingo float at him and told him not to let any of the drunks drown in the pool.
Brooke had been one of those drunks, and while he did not let her drown, he did let her climb him like a tree in my guest room.
Nine months later, Zoey was born.
And one year after that, he signed away his parental rights, causing me to throw yet another party.
“He was a good guy,” Brooke said.
“He was drug addict. Devon is nothing like Jason.”
She held up a hand. “Okay, but think about Jason before the drugs, he was just—” she searched for the word “—intense. You know that type. They look at you like you’re the only woman they’ve ever seen. It’s intoxicating. Right up until it isn’t. I’m not comparing them. I promise you, I’m not. Jason was a disaster and Devon is—” she waved a vague hand toward the barn “—whatever Devon is. But men like that, Lofton. Hyper-focused, protective, all hot and alpha. It’s a lot to absorb. And when you’re scared and isolated and grieving, it can feel like the answer to every single thing that’s been wrong.”
I held her gaze. “And?”
“And he’s an asshole.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s not.” I swayed my head from side to side. “I mean, he can be, but he’s not with me.
She laughed. “Of course he’s not. How else would he get the chance to sleep with Lofton Beck?”
I jerked as if she’d physically slapped me. Almost wishing she had because it definitely would have hurt less.
“I’m a person,” I hissed
Clearly surprised, she leaned away from me. “I never said you weren’t.”
“Yes, you did. You used my name like I’m some kind of commodity and not a woman with thoughts and feelings and qualities that a man could find desirable without my fucking name attached.”