Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“We grew up together, sort of.”
“The way I understand it, you were his sister’s friend, but he’s five years older. He wasn’t around all the time.”
“That’s true.”
“And more to the point, he’s been out on his own for seven years. Do you have any clue what he’s been doing in that time?”
“I have some guesses.”
“And I’d bet your guesses aren’t even close to the truth.” Finn walks past me, nearly brushing my shoulder with his. “I didn’t know Kell when he lived here, but I’ve been in this place long enough to know that the man he used to be isn’t the man he is today. Whatever boy he was back then, the scars he picked up here, and the scars he earned out there, turned him into a force. Even with everything stacked Hugh’s way, you’d be crazy to bet against Kellen.”
“You really believe in him.”
“I’m not a believer by nature,” Finn says, walking on. “But I’ve seen things, and you’ll see them too if you marry him.” He reaches the bend and pauses, looking back. “Speaking of which, he wants to take you out tomorrow night. He says to wear something nice.”
“You’re setting his dates now too?”
He wobbles his head from side to side, grinning. “Just wear something nice. Show some leg. He likes your legs.”
“You’re insane.”
He waves and walks off, and my fingers reach down to touch my thighs.
Chapter 8
Tara
I adjust the dress in the mirror and stare at myself.
This is stupid. This is really stupid. I’m in a black dress with a tight button-down top, the top three buttons open enough to show a bit of my cleavage, and clean white sneakers. My hair’s down and I’m wearing more makeup than I’ve worn in months or maybe years—I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up. I put on a pair of earrings I bought with Cait when we were kids and smile to myself and wonder if he’ll notice.
Probably not.
I don’t know how much he saw back then. The bad stuff, definitely—but what about the good stuff? When Cait and I would lounge around the house eating popcorn and watching movies and making jokes and laughing? He’d join in sometimes and make fun of us but I think he liked hanging around his little sister. Cait was so charming and outgoing and fun, at least when she wanted to be. There was darkness in her, yeah, but I don’t know if the dark outweighed the light.
It didn’t at first, anyway.
I sigh, tilting my head, admiring myself. I’m not that teenage girl anymore. Gone is my gawky awkwardness replaced by a woman’s body. I barely ever think of myself like that—as a woman, with needs and wants and all that. I live like a monk most days. Cleaning, pruning, working.
Trying to scour my soul of all the awful things we did back then.
This is stupid. I should lock the door, turn off the lights, and pretend like I’m not here.
But it’s too late. Kellen knocks once and steps inside, not bothering to wait for me to let him in.
“You can’t keep doing that,” I say, glaring at him from the bedroom. “You know it’s rude, right?”
He shrugs and steps into the hall. I stare at him and try not to let my mouth fall open. Kellen’s in a gorgeous navy suit perfectly tailored to his muscular frame, no tie, and a crisp white shirt. He looks incredible, handsome and modern, and it’s hard for me to connect this clean-cut-looking model with the scruffy, dangerous-looking bastard that’s usually lurking around here.
“You look good,” he says softly as I step out of my room. “I take it Finn mentioned your legs.”
My cheeks turn bright red. Yes, the skirt is a bit shorter than I’d normally wear, and yes, I’m showing off a bit because Finn told me to. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His smile drives me fucking crazy. “Good girl. Come on, let’s go.”
I follow him to the door. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“One of my restaurants in the city.”
“You own restaurants?”
“Bars, clubs, restaurants, laundromats, fast food, convenience stores, strip joints. Anywhere with a lot of cash.”
“I thought you were a gangster.”
He laughs softly and drapes an arm across my shoulders. I try to shrug him away but he doesn’t let me. “I am, and that’s what most people don’t understand. The line between a gangster and a businessman is extremely porous. Besides, it’s not smart to assume my crew will be there forever. I need a backup plan in case the less-than-legal stuff doesn’t pan out. It’s called diversifying.”
“You sound very fancy.”
“I am wearing a suit right now.”
We move through the garden and reach the driveway in a few minutes. He asks me questions about the plants to fill the time and I answer them, surprised at my own eagerness to talk about my work. After all these years, finally someone’s showing interest, even if I know he doesn’t actually care and he’s just making small talk. Still, I spent so much of my life making this place beautiful and I like that someone seems to give a crap about it.