Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Doug nods his approval. “Boy will be pissed you kept it from him.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“And the women?” Dad counters.
“Just like everything else, this info stays tight. We plan to tell them tomorrow morning what they need to know.”
At this, I’m done with the conversation. “Headed to bed.” I jut my chin to the group and walk around to my entrance to avoid running into anyone still awake in the house.
Wolf’s head pops up and his tail thumps twice before he curls back into a ball on his bed.
Willow steps out of the bathroom, her grin growing. “One good thing about your testosterone-filled meeting, I saved my dress.”
The heaviness of the last few minutes disappears at the triumph in her expression.
“It will never see the light of day again.” I bend to kiss her, squeezing her ass. “Meet you in bed.”
I strip off the custom-made tux, tossing it into the hamper Willow dubbed as ‘dry clean only’. Next to it sits another basket for our ‘everyday items’.
My life is about order, but I’ve never separated my shit before she moved in.
Her clothes are organized in sections, her shoes, handbags, and accessories all lining the shelves.
Her replenished Lulu collection—bras, tanks, shorts, pants, jackets—all methodically arranged in colored clusters.
More evidence of her touch is spread throughout.
Cosmetics, lotions, and perfumes are arranged on the vanity.
Her toothbrush sitting next to mine…
I step into the shower, noting the multiple bottles of shampoos, conditioners, hair masks, body washes, the bright pink loofah sponge that stands out in the otherwise basic space.
Her presence is everywhere.
The scalding hot water does little to ease the tension coiled tight.
I shut off the water, wrapping a towel around my waist, not bothering with the pajama pants Willow laid out.
Fuck the fact the house is full of people.
She’s giggling at something on her phone when I enter the room, and her eyes dart up, her laughter halting.
Even with all the shit in my head, my cock reacts to the way her eyes heat, roaming over my form.
I give myself the time to memorize her sitting in the bed, wearing one of my tees, looking straight out of a dream.
“The first time I saw you at Tom’s, you were wearing jeans and a plain black shirt. My heart skipped a beat.” She raises her gaze to me. “Then at the park, running with a dog you borrowed, I didn’t think you were real. My graduation, you wore a navy suit. When you dress for work, the gym, the pool—all of it is burned in my brain.”
“Baby, where you going with this?”
“Today, when I saw you in the tux, my breath literally left my lungs. And now, it’s a reminder you are the most beautiful man in the world.”
I stalk to the bed, dropping the towel and lifting her so when I lean against the headboard, she’s straddling me.
“Came around that corner, Bex spouting some shit. The next second, my world shifted. The gorgeous brunette with striking green eyes captured me. My heart didn’t skip a beat—it stopped altogether. Just like it has every day since then.”
Her face softens, her fingers mapping the ink on my chest. “I love you.”
Guilt burns through my veins, my conscious screaming at me. “Which is why I hate to do this.”
Her light brushes stop, her body going stiff. “No.” The whisper is torment.
“We got word Max is involved in a hostage situation.”
“Is he okay?”
“Not sure of the details. Robbie is assembling an intelligence team.”
“What does this mean?”
“Means we are joining Hayes Security again. The rest in uncertain right now.”
“Uncertain?”
“Yeah.”
“But an intelligence team is like a command center, right? Like the movies?”
I don’t correct her about the Hollywood version of ITs. Nor do I confess my place in the team.
“Are other police units joining this team?”
Fuck! I hoped to graze over this part. She picks up on my hesitation, shaking her head.
“Don’t do that. Don’t keep anything from me.”
“This isn’t with the force. I’m going in as a Marine.”
“But you’re not an active Marine. You’re not even an active reservist. You’re in a specialized training role!”
I remain quiet, holding back all the connections and backways Robbie and James can construct their operations.
Her hand flies to her mouth, realization washing over her. “This isn’t just intelligence. You’re going after Max, aren’t you?”
“We don’t know what my role will be yet.” This is partially the truth, since the intel on Max’s situation won’t be fully known until Robbie breaks about a dozen National Intelligence Laws.
“But you could be going directly into danger?”
Another bout of silence from me.
Her body bucks, and I knife up as she collapses into my chest. Her tears soak my skin, each one piercing like a blade to my heart.
As much as I want to comfort her, soothe her fears, stop the overactive imagination, and make all the promises she needs to hear—I can’t.