Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
That gorgeous fucking girl.
She walked over like she wanted to burn the boardwalk down. Green eyes staring hellfire straight into my soul. Her curly red hair bounced with each step, the wind blowing some into her face. A strand was stuck in her mouth, pressed between her pouty, pink lips the whole time we were talking. I couldn’t stop looking at that mouth, wondering what it would be like to be that strand of hair. I wanted to crush her lips with my own, kiss her hard, make her moan, bite and nibble on her tongue.
I didn’t know she was drop-dead gorgeous. Nobody fucking told me.
Well, Adler did say she was pretty, but that word pretty doesn’t do Fallon justice.
Even under a puffy coat, I could tell the girl’s got an incredible figure. I got a hit of it when she walked away—her skinny jeans clung to her perky, firm ass, and my cock was half hard just looking at her.
Which only made the guilt that much more crushing.
She’s one of them. The people that murdered my best friend, that killed my soldiers, that tried to destroy my family. It’s easy for Adler to make peace—he wasn’t the one on the front lines. He wasn’t the one killing and dying.
I shouldn’t think about Fallon like this. It doesn’t matter if I’m physically attracted to her in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time. No matter how beautiful she may be, she’s still a Grady, and I still despise everything she represents.
Which makes this all the more confusing, because I enjoyed my conversation with her.
I find myself at a bar around ten at night. Drowning my sorrows isn’t right—more like drowning myself entirely. I order another drink when two people appear, one on either side of me, climbing onto the empty stools.
I look over and Conlan’s grinning back on my left. He’s the youngest Costa brother and the second to get married. His little girl, Tessa, is two years old now—I’ve only met her a few times, to my shame.
On my right is Erick, my final brother, leaning on his elbows, almost smiling. He got hitched a couple years back, and his little boy, Luca, was born a little over a year ago.
“You look like shit,” Conlan says.
“Good to see you too, little brother.” I squeeze his shoulder. “And you too, other little brother.” I put an arm around Erick and give him a quick hug, which he doesn’t return, the reserved bastard.
“He’s right. You look terrible.” Erick doesn’t hide his concern. “Adler told us you met with her.”
“I take it that didn’t go well.” Conlan’s eyebrows raise.
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” I swirl my drink. “Where are the kids? I want to see them.”
“With nannies while the wives are out having a little get-together.” Conlan sighs dramatically. “God help Atlantic City with those three running around together.”
“How’s Mother doing?” I ask, trying to change the subject. I’d rather talk about anything but Fallon with these two nosy pricks.
“She’s fine. Tell us about the girl.” Conlan doesn’t bite on my distraction, which means he’s not letting me off easy.
I grunt, annoyed we’re doing this, but fine, I can’t avoid it. My brothers will dig and dig until I spill everything. “She hates me. I hate her. It’s about what I expected.”
“Was she attractive?” Erick asks.
“She’s not my type.” Which is a complete and utter lie. Physically, at least. Mentally? Spiritually? Those are other matters entirely.
Conlan squints in my face. “You sure? I detect some twitches, almost as if you’re being less than truthful.”
“I’m positive. Much too pale.” Skin like silky cream, if I’m being honest with myself. I wave Conlan back. “And her hair’s way too red.” Auburn, actually, and it caught the meager outdoors light, shining slightly around her beautiful face like a halo of fire.
Fucking hell, she’s turning me poetic. It’s the worst.
“What did you say to her?” Erick’s still looking at me, giving me that penetrating stare. The guy can see into my damn soul sometimes and it drives me crazy.
“Nothing.” I swirl my drink. “Just the truth.” I take a sip. “That we’re fake and will never be anything but fake.”
Conlan groans. “Come on, man, that was the first time you met your future wife and you say that shit?”
“Bad move,” Erick agrees.
“I get it, you don’t want to marry her, but be reasonable.” Conlan leans over and snatches my drink away. He drains it with a glare. “You’re stuck with her. You might as well try to make it work.”
I signal for a refill and seethe. He’s right, but I don’t like hearing it. “You don’t understand. Your parts of the family have been at peace. You don’t get what it was like over there.”
I hunch over my whiskey when it arrives. Neither of them speaks for a little while, because they know I’m right. Erick runs the Vegas properties, while Conlan’s got the West Coast hotels. There’s no killing going on in the States, at least nothing serious.