Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
“You were one of those masked psychos?”
Mom frowned. “Psychos?”
Papà laughed, licking another crumb off his thumb. “We didn’t do anything extreme enough to be called that. It was harmless fun. I even got your mom to date me that way.”
I nearly choked. “Are you serious?”
He winked, completely unbothered. “Best hunt I ever won. Those were the days.”
Good for him.
I wasn’t exactly feeling all warm and fuzzy about my own Huntsmen, especially one in particular. Ryder definitely wouldn’t appreciate me comparing notes to the one who kept texting me like we had some kind of connection. Wait—shit. The note from my locker. Where had I put it? I hadn’t told him about that yet. With everything that happened, I’d forgotten all about it until now.
Sugarmama clicked her tongue. “Your Nonno and I played back in our day too. Rival schools. Much different time. That’s a story for another day.”
Did that mean they knew each other before my parents did? What the actual hell? I thought I was fully in the know about my family history. Apparently not. A chime echoed through the house, alerting us that the front door was opening. Mom’s gaze slid to me. “That would be your breakfast.”
Sugarmama snickered. “In more ways than one.”
Papà grimaced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t need that visual in my head, Anima.”
My eyes widened, realization hitting me like a truck. If Mom knew, of course Papà and Nonno knew too. Shakira would soon, no doubt, but she’d be dead to the world until at least noon.
Papà caught my look, grinning like he’d been waiting for this moment. “You didn’t think I’d be out of the loop, did you? Not for my baby girl. Had a long talk with Billy. We’re ecstatic.”
I wanted to crawl onto the floor and disappear.
Ryder came around the corner, his varsity jacket over a plain black hoodie, black sweats, his shoes laced tight. He looked like he hadn’t missed a minute of sleep. His eyes found mine instantly, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face like wildfire.
“Morning again,” he said, greeting my family easily before locking back onto me. “I’m here for you.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as dust. I had to work not to think about the way he’d had me beneath him hours ago, the way his mouth had felt between my thighs. I forced a smile, leaning against the counter. “And what are your intentions?” I questioned.
“That was my line,” Papà joked, folding his arms over his wide chest to try and look stern.
Ryder’s grin widened, lazy and cocky in a way that made my heart stumble. “It’s a surprise, but it involves iced coffee.”
I was grabbing my phone and moving toward him on my next breath. “Say less.”
I could practically feel Sugarmama’s smirk drilling into the back of my head.
“Be back by one,” Dad called after us. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, young man.”
“That might be the worst advice you’ve ever given,” I heard Mom say as we rounded the corner together.
I slipped my shoes on at the door, then Ryder took my hand, his grip firm and warm, leading me out. The cool morning air bit my cheeks. His truck sat in the center of our driveway, black paint gleaming under the sun.
“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing up at him.
“You’ll see.”
He opened the door for me, hand steady at my waist as I climbed in. The scent of fresh coffee hit me instantly, my iced heaven waiting in the cup holder. I caught sight of a flannel blanket folded in the back and a basket tucked beside it. The scent of something warm and buttery wafted through the air, making my stomach grumble. Ryder jogged around the front of the truck, sliding into the driver’s seat. He reached over, fingers brushing mine as he checked my seatbelt, his touch lingering for a second too long.
“So… where are we going?” I asked again as he pulled down the drive.
He let out a low laugh. “Do you know the meaning of a surprise, Sass?”
“I like to be prepared.”
His grin widened, that lazy tilt making my stomach flip. “Just trust me.”
He turned onto our street, the truck rolling slowly past the manicured hedges and pristine gates, the kind that looked more like museum displays than actual homes. I watched the gleaming facades disappear behind us, each one polished and perfect, hiding secrets in every marble corner.
A thousand thoughts clawed at the edge of my mind, but for now, with him beside me, I could keep holding everything together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SANJANA
Fifteen minutes in, I started to recognize the route. The winding roads, the way the trees thickened, and the houses thinned out.
We were heading toward our lake.
Ryder kept one hand on the wheel, the other, the one still wrapped in gauze, rested casually on the console between us. The radio played low, some soft, bluesy guitar that matched the light slanting through the windshield. It was a beautiful fall morning.