Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Well, now he’s a jerk with a broken nose.”
She laughed ruefully. “I’m a mess. And your shirt’s a mess.”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you, by any chance, have any tissues in your glove box?”
“Hmm. I might have something.” I leaned across her and opened it up, grateful to see I’d stashed some fast food napkins in there. “How’s this?”
“Perfect. Thanks.” She grabbed one and blew her nose, then another and wiped her eyes. Then she balled them up in her hands and took a few shaky breaths.
“You okay?”
She nodded. Her nose was red, her eyes were puffy, and her mascara had left some black smudges, but her breathing was calmer. “I’m okay.”
“Do you think he’s telling the truth about throwing out your things?” I asked. “Maybe that was a bullshit flex.”
“No. I think he really did it. He’s vindictive and spiteful.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “When you said that thing about stuff your mom gave you, I wanted to kill him.”
“Honestly, it wasn’t that much. A few pieces of clothing. The stuff of hers that really mattered to me wasn’t there—I left a box in Morgan’s storage unit when I moved to Chicago. Photo albums from when I was young, letters she wrote to me, some books.”
I exhaled in relief. “Thank god.”
“It’s funny,” she said thoughtfully, staring out the front windshield. “I didn’t even consider bringing that box to Neil’s with me. At the time, I told Morgan that I just hadn’t had a chance to sort through it all and the grief was too fresh to handle it, but that was a lie. I just didn’t want to share any of it with Neil. It was too personal. Too precious to me.”
“Maybe deep down, you knew.”
She nodded sadly and dropped her eyes to her hands, which rested in her lap, still clutching the napkins. “Maybe I did.”
I started the truck and buckled my seatbelt. “Well, what do you say we leave this place behind and head home?”
“Sounds good.” She looked over at me, her expression sorrowful. “I’m sorry I dragged you all the way down here for nothing. I’ll pay you back for the gas.”
“Listen, I’d have driven another six hundred miles to punch that guy in the face. And you’re going to need all your money for new clothes.”
“Still.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then tipped her head onto my shoulder, hugging my upper arm. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
My chest grew warm, and my heart beat faster. “Me too.”
She picked up my right hand and looked at it. “Does it hurt?”
I flexed my fingers. “Not a bit.”
“That was a hard punch you threw.”
“Eh. I’ve hit Xander harder than that. But Xander fights back.”
She laughed. “I bet.”
I was about to put the truck in gear when she did the craziest thing—she lifted my rough hand to her soft mouth and kissed the back of each finger. Then she studied it. “I like your hands. I like them even better when they’re on me.”
My dick jumped, and I threw the truck in reverse. “Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”
SIXTEEN
veronica
“Tell me more about growing up with five siblings,” I said once we were heading east on the interstate out of Illinois. I wanted to know more about him, and family seemed like his first priority.
“We were close, when we didn’t want to kill each other.”
“Did you share bedrooms?” I asked, remembering how quiet the house was growing up an only child.
He nodded. “Xander and I shared, Devlin and Dash shared. Mabel was the princess who had her own room.”
“She grew up with four brothers,” I said with a laugh. “She needed space. But she doesn’t strike me as the princess type.”
“I guess she wasn’t, not in the spoiled brat sense of the word. And she wasn’t super girly. She was more of a tomboy if anything. She was always trying to keep up with us.”
“So other than you and Xander, did all of you get along?”
“Yeah. And I think Xander and I only fought so much because we’re closest in age, and both of us were competitive. He had sports as an outlet, but I didn’t have time for sports in high school. I always worked.”
Sympathy squeezed my heart—he really had been forced to grow up fast. “What’s Devlin like?”
“Now? I’d say he’s driven. Successful. Focused. As a kid, he was a handful, but he quit being so rebellious once he got to high school. He wanted a college degree and knew he’d need decent grades.”
“So he was a good student?”
“He was definitely the best student of the boys. But he was motivated—he wanted to run his own business, make a lot of money, drive a nice car, all that.”
“And does he?”
“He’s on his way,” Austin said, a touch of pride in his voice. “He works his ass off. An office job would not be for me, but he seems to love corporate life.”