Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
"Like you too. Seems like you adopted her. You have no idea how much she needed that."
"Us girls gotta stick together," she declared. "Even against hot guys with eight-packs and cool tattoos," she added, scrunching up her eyes at me. "So don't let me hear that you screwed her over. I am a hell of a shot," she told me, giving me a beaming smile. "Have fun with all the sexcapades," she added, walking past me. "Have Sloane get back to me about dinner."
"Will do," I agreed, nodding at her retreating form before going inside to find Sloane dressed. But not in her uniform - those slacks and blouses and ankle-breaking heels. No. She was in tight light-wash skinny jeans, a white, tee, and slippers. And her hair was down. "Ran into Auddie outside. She threatened to shoot me if I hurt you," I added, grabbing a glass, filling it from the tap, trying not to smile at the way her eyes raked over me. Had her five times in twenty-four hours, but she still wanted more. I knew that feeling well.
"That's sweet," she decided, smiling a little.
"And she wants me to make sure that that no matter what you choose to do, that you make time for art."
"I've given it a lot of thought since I quit my job. I really do want to do something with it. Even if I continue my handbag line. They don't need me there as much as I am there. I don't need to make as many mockup bags a season as I do. And Mateo has been dying for some more responsibility. I could back up a little. Make more time for other things."
"I think that is a good plan," I said carefully, wanting to encourage her, but not wanting her to think I was trying to tell her what to do with her life. "Maybe I can look into getting an apartment in Navesink Bank," she went on, this time she was the one being careful about what she said, worried she was misreading things, or that her mind was moving too fast.
"You could definitely do that. It's an interesting place." But it wouldn't get that far. She'd end up starting slow, coming down on weekends, staying with me because it was just for the weekend. Then it would be more than the weekend, but she'd already be comfortable in my place. She'd end up there whenever she wasn't in the city dealing with business. And, well, I'd likely be hanging at her place in the city unless I was on a job.
Christ.
I was thinking about the future.
Me.
Of all people.
A man who had never had a woman spend more than a night in his place, was thinking about weekends that would lead to living together.
That wasn't like me.
Yet here we were.
And it was easy, easier than I thought it would be to get serious about a woman.
Maybe that had everything to do with this particular woman. Waking up to her, coming home to her, arguing over eating at the dining table with her, that was some shit I was looking forward to. Without the tension of running from a murdering rapist psycho, the culture shock of taking her out of her world, the strain of trying to stay professional with her.
It would be easier, less fraught with stress.
We could give it a real go finally.
"We have to stay here for five more days though," I told her.
"Why?"
"That is when your books will be back from the printer. I told Auddie we would hang here. She demanded dinner."
"Between the two of you - and the girls - I had better make enough for an army."
"Plus some. I want leftovers. I have a feeling I am going to need my energy," I told her, reaching out to grab her hip, trying to pull her closer to me.
"You're all sweaty!" she objected, swatting at my chest.
"And now you're gonna be too," I promised her.
And then she was.
"Need me to spot you?" I asked when she fetched her clothes off the floor, and said she was going to wash up.
"What?"
"When we were looking at the apartment, you asked if it had a tub. I figured you took a few steps back when it came to showers."
"I did," she agreed, shrugging like it was nothing. But it was something. And it made me even happier that Cortez was dead.
It had been an easy decision for me in the end.
Maybe it shouldn't have been.
Taking a human life should never be easy.
It had been, though.
Easy.
Easier even than the kills I had done in the name of my country. Easier than the ones done in self-defense.
For her, for her safety, for her peaceful dreams?
Easier than anything I had ever done before.
"But I think I will be okay. We both know that if you 'spot me,' that we will end up not really showering."