Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“This is a horse farm. There are random amounts all over the place.”
“Maybe, but there are also patterns, and it looks like Renee was generally pretty good about noting where the payments are from.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Here I am, thinking you were just another pretty face.”
“I’m a liar, not an idiot.” He tosses me a smile and leans closer. “We could always ignore the books and enjoy our sudden privacy.”
“Easy,” I say, brushing his hand away. “We have work to do.”
“I can’t tell what I’d enjoy more, fucking you right now or watching your shitty family suffer. Maybe we could do both?”
“How about we stick with the books for now.”
He laughs and leans back and starts skimming the figures.
I try to get into it. Numbers were never my specialty—I’ve always been an outdoors girl—but ever since I started working for Kat and Ford, I’ve been much more involved in the financial side of things, and soon Renee’s books start making some sense. War’s right, there are patterns, recurring expenses scattered all throughout, and nothing crazy jumps out at me. No large numbers, no strange amounts, just typical business stuff.
I keep glancing sidelong at War. He’s lost in the work and his eyes scrunch down when he’s concentrating, and his mouth moves slightly as he reads to himself, subvocalizing the numbers. It’s actually kind of cute and I want to straddle him, bite his lower lip, let him grip my ass and pull my hair. I want him to make me forget for a while.
But that raises more questions. Like why he’d want to sleep together when that only makes this whole situation that much more complicated? I’m attracted to him—I can’t pretend like I’m not—but there are things about him that don’t add up. Like if his family is wealthy, why is he taking odd jobs? Why is he here now, going through with this, instead of running far away like any rational person would? Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money, but is it worth the stress and the risk of getting tangled up with Daisy and my uncles? I’m not sure it is, at least not for him.
So why stick around? Why help me? Why snoop on Daisy and why get more involved than he has to?
Why kiss me and fuck me and get me off? Why make me want him?
Because I am starting to want him. War’s a liar like me, but I catch little moments where he’s being genuine, where he’s laughing and unguarded and himself. And I like those moments, they make me feel warm and right and comfortable, and I want more of them. I could see myself with War, even though he’s not really my typical kind of guy—I always thought I’d end up with a rancher—I can still picture going for hikes and picnics and laughing at his jokes and letting him bite my shoulder as he wraps his big hand around my throat and buries himself between my legs.
“You’re daydreaming,” he says and I start. He’s right, I was staring off into space.
“Sorry. I’m not good at concentrating on stuff like this.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing important.”
His smile is maddening. “Come on. You were thinking about last night. Don’t pretend like you weren’t.”
I feel my cheeks flush pink. “I mean—”
“Oh, you were, you filthy girl.” He laughs and closes his book. “Which part was your favorite?”
“I’m not doing this with you.”
“Come on, was it when I pinned you down and—”
“Nope,” I say loudly, interrupting him. “Actually, I was sitting here wondering why you haven’t run away yet.”
He considers that a moment. “Would it surprise you if I said I’m staying because I want to?”
“That’s not exactly an answer. Why do you want to?”
“Because of you.”
My jaw works. I try to come up with some snappy answer, but my words fail me, and I try to parse out what he means. “For the money?” I asked. “You’re staying for me—for the money?”
He shakes his head slowly. “It started out for the money. And I’ll still take my cut when your father writes us that check. But I’m staying, and I’m getting involved, because I want to make sure you walk away from this whole mess feeling like you did something decent. Like it wasn’t all some mistake.”
“I don’t understand why you’d care.”
“Would it surprise you if I said I don’t either?” He laughs at the look on my face. “How about we just say the sex was really good, and I want to see if I can’t have another taste before this is all done.”
“Keep talking like that and I promise there won’t be another taste of anything.”
“Good, I like a little challenge.”
I shake my head and go back to skimming the books, but I’m smiling to myself and it takes a while to identify the feeling rattling around in my chest. It’s warm and comforting and glows like the embers right before a fire. War is the first person to do something for me purely because it makes him feel good, and that makes me happy in a way I can’t quite describe. Kat and Ford are great to me, they gave me a job and treat me like family, but it’s a much more equal relationship in the sense that I try to give back to them as much as I can, and we’re intertwined together. But what I have with War is much more transactional, and if he decides to do something for me, there’s no obligation driving him. He’s doing it purely because he wants to, and not because he has to or because he’s supposed to.