Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
But family comes first. It always has.
I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on her cheek. "My mother’s going to love you."
She covers my hand with hers. "You think so?"
“I do.” More than I should admit. But I nod and lean in to kiss her forehead, soft and quick. "We’ll head out tomorrow morning. Gives us time to figure out the rest."
The rest being the concert in two days. The confrontation with my father. The brothers who are already on their way. The mess that started as a protection detail and has turned into something I never saw coming.
For now, though, the afternoon light is still warm through the windows, and Sadie’s standing in my shirt, seeing the man beneath the damage. I pull her in for another kiss, slower this time, and let myself have this one good thing before the storm hits again.
14
Sadie
I’m catching feelings. Real, inconvenient, terrifying feelings that make my chest feel too tight and my thoughts spin in loops I can’t seem to break. I don’t want this. This was supposed to be temporary. I had rules back in Halo City on that porch. No flirting. No nicknames. No letting the arrogant, charming, fun-loving bodyguard get under my skin or into my bed. But the rules are scattered like broken glass now. After the beach where he saw me in my bikini and couldn’t stop staring. After the club dinner where his arm around my waist felt too right. After this afternoon, when he gazed at me as if I were the last steady thing he could hold onto, then showed me exactly how much he wanted me with those talented hands and that sinful, charming mouth.
And now we still have to keep pretending. The concert’s in two days. Victor, his father, is out there somewhere with answers and secrets and a new name. We need to be visible tonight. Act like a normal couple enjoying summer in Sunbreak Harbor. Maybe Victor will show up again. Maybe we’ll spot him first. The thought makes something twist low in my stomach, but I push it down. Jace needs the distraction. I can give him that much at least.
He releases his hold on me, and I miss his touch already. "So, Wells. How should we spend the rest of today?"
I smile. "We should figure out the plan. Your mom's house tomorrow morning, right?"
He nods, one hand sliding up my back in a slow, absent stroke that sends little sparks across my skin. "Tomorrow morning. Gives us time to breathe. Tonight we go out. Be seen. Lobster Shack for dinner. Walk the boardwalk afterward. Make it look as if we’re another couple enjoying the town. Maybe Victor shows his face. If he does, we play it cool."
I raise an eyebrow at him, trying for serious even as his fingers keep tracing patterns along my arm. "You’re very confident. What if he does show up? What if he saw you yesterday?"
Jace's grin softens into something more real. He leans in and brushes his nose against mine in a gesture that feels far too intimate for two people who are supposed to be pretending. "Then we deal with it. Together. You’re good at this, Sadie. The way you handled the women at the club, the way you kept it together when everything went sideways. I trust you."
The words hit somewhere deep. I don’t know what to say to that, so I deflect with banter instead. "High praise from the man who thought I was going to climb out a window and run when we first met."
"You were glaring at me," he says, laughing. "It was adorable. Still is."
I try to look annoyed, but my lips betray me. "You’re too much."
"And you like it," he shoots back, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before walking away.
The afternoon passes in a strange, comfortable rhythm that feels far too real. I shower while he makes coffee in the kitchen, the sound of him humming something upbeat drifting down the hall. When I come out in a simple sundress, hair still damp, he’s leaning against the counter in low-slung jeans and nothing else, scrolling his phone with one hand and holding a mug in the other. The domestic picture of it makes my chest ache in a way I’m not ready to examine.
"You’re staring," he says without looking up, but the grin in his voice is obvious.
"I am not," I lie, moving to pour myself coffee. The mug is warm in my hands. "I’m assessing the tactical advantages of having a shirtless bodyguard in the kitchen."
He glances up then, eyes warm and teasing. "Tactical advantages include excellent coffee service and the ability to carry you to bed if you get any ideas about working on lesson plans tonight."