Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Tell us about her,” Fiona says as if she can read my mind. “We’re your best friends, Connor.”
“There’s not much to tell right now. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
They both stare at me for a moment and then, because they’re a couple of arseholes, they start to laugh.
Not just a chuckle.
No, face down on the table, laughing until tears drip down their faces.
“I hate you both.”
That makes them start again, and I fist my hands and pull out my phone. It’s still the middle of the night in Montana, but I miss my angel.
And I left Miller behind to keep an eye on her. If I can’t be there to make sure she’s safe, the one man I trust most in the world will do it for me.
In fact, a message from Miller waits for me.
Miller: She’s safe, sleeping in her bed. She smiled when the flowers were delivered. Didn’t work a full day. Looked tired when she went home around two. Hasn’t left since. I’ll check in on her tomorrow.
I was pissed that she went in to work at all. If she were mine, I would have insisted she stay home to heal.
Her work ethic rivals mine, which is one of the things I’m attracted to in her.
“Are you two quite done?” I lift an eyebrow as they wipe their faces. Fiona pulls a compact out of her handbag to dab at her makeup.
“This is the best day of my life, no offense, my love,” Ronan says to his wife.
“None taken, as it might be mine as well,” she says with a wide grin aimed at me. “A woman, with a heartbeat and breathing the air around her, has told you no? The irresistible Connor Gallagher?”
“Shut up.”
“Obviously, she’s brilliant,” Ronan adds. “A bloody goddess who knows her mind if she isn’t willing to put up with your shite.”
“I don’t know why I call you my friends.”
“Because we love you, and you know it.” Fiona walks to the wet bar in the conference room to make herself some tea. “You can be quite charming when you want to be. But if you want it to work for the long term, you’re going to have to open up to her.”
I scowl at my ex-wife, but she just smiles.
“And that’s not something you do,” she finishes.
No, it’s not something I did with her.
Or anyone else.
And the thought of opening up to Billie scares the fecking shite out of me, but I know that she’s right because the woman basically said the same thing herself.
“I’m not saying that to bring up old hurts,” she adds. “It’s simply the truth of it.”
“Listen, I didn’t come here for advice. I came because someone”—I eye Ronan, who simply smiles at me—“made it sound like the bloody world would end if I didn’t get my Irish arse to Dublin straight away. Now I find out you just missed me.”
“That’s not true.” Ronan shakes his head. “Stockholm—”
“Jesus bloody hell,” I grumble, rubbing my hand over my face. “Fine, I’ll go to Stockholm for one day. One, Fiona, or I’ll fire your arse.”
“You can’t.” She bats her eyelashes at me. “I promise, I’ll do my best to have you out of there in less than twenty-four hours.”
“You promised me it would be that not half an hour ago.” I glare at her, but she doesn’t even pretend to look intimidated.
Because she’s not.
“I’ll do my best.”
Three fucking days. Fiona is on my list because what was supposed to be one day turned into three, but I think I’ve managed to avoid a lawsuit, and it seems that feathers have been smoothed out.
I also made it clear that other board members can answer questions and make decisions, and I’m not the only person to call.
Time will tell if that actually happens.
It’s Friday, and I’m finally back in Bitterroot Valley. We flew all night so I could be here before the bookshop closed.
Miller’s waiting on the tarmac with the SUV.
“To the bookshop,” I say as I walk toward the vehicle.
“I assumed that was our destination.” He nods, and then we’re both in the car, driving away from the airport. “Sir, if you’d like, I can begin the process of hiring a man for her.”
I scowl at Miller in the rearview mirror. “What do you mean?”
“If you want a detail protecting Miss Blackwell, I can hire someone to do so, so I’m available for you. You are my job.”
I narrow my eyes. “Your job is what I tell you it is.”
“I’m dropping the formality for a minute because I’ve worked for you for eight years.” He shakes his head. “And I hate to disagree with you, but you are my priority, Connor. Always. The fact that you left me here, where I couldn’t protect you, so I could babysit a woman who doesn’t need me? That’s a waste of resources.”