Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
"Cerberus has a code of ethics that they follow. They're very reactive to a problem. I'm more the type to stop it before it becomes a problem in the first place," I explain.
"I don't understand," she says.
"If it were up to me," I tell her, glancing in her direction. "I would've tracked him down a week ago and put a bullet in his head."
"I see," she whispers.
Conversation stops, as if the topic was just too deep to allow for anything else. I don't know if I told her too much, and now she's all in her head, wondering just what kind of man I might really be.
The other SUV is still in the parking lot when we get back, and I wait for a signal from Rocker telling me that all is clear before getting out of the vehicle.
I offer my hand a second time, and for a second time Juliet doesn't take it.
I could get lost in questions of why, but my focus is on getting her safely inside her apartment. My ego and hurt feelings have no place in a situation like this, and I've never been one to worry about what someone else might be thinking or why they're behaving in a certain way.
I convince myself she didn't take my help because she didn't need it, and leave it at that.
Despite the guys watching and patrolling, I still follow the same routine I have followed the last couple of times I escorted her home. I move through the apartment with her waiting near the door until I clear the entire area.
I can't help but wonder if I would protect every woman who needed my help to this level.
When I walk back into the living room and notice the relief in her eyes, I know that I would. What would be different if she were anyone else is that I'd be less inclined to hope she asks me to stay.
"All clear," I assure her.
We're dangerously close to standing in the same spot we were in earlier when she kissed me, and that knowledge makes my head spin. I have no idea how far things would've gotten had I not pumped the brakes. There's a real chance I would've had her under me, my body taking care of every physical need she could ever ask of me, but the act itself isn't the problem.
The aftermath of it all could compromise too much, namely her safety, and no matter how badly either of us would've wanted it, I could never do that to her.
Her safety is of the utmost importance.
Blurring those lines with sex complicates things in a way that could be detrimental to us both.
"I'll be right outside if you need me," I tell her, walking toward the front door.
"Okay," she says, stepping to the side so I can leave. "Wait."
I turn back to face her, holding my breath because I have no idea what she's going to say.
She could easily ask me to find someone else to watch over her. I crossed a line I shouldn't have after all.
She could also try to pick up where we left off earlier. As much as I know it's a bad idea, I don't know how many times I can get a taste of her and walk away if she doesn't want me to.
"What are the rules about you staying?" she asks, her voice a whisper as if we're sharing secrets or she's afraid we're being overheard.
I open my mouth to tell her that isn't a good idea, but no words fall from my lips.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I say instead, the statement a hundred percent true.
"You can sleep on the sofa," she says, pointing to it.
I look at what she calls a sofa, but the thing is tiny, a loveseat more than an actual sofa, not that the size of it would determine my answer.
She looks back at me, her nose scrunched as if she just did the mental math on how that would work out for me.
"If I stayed, I wouldn't be sleeping," I explain, but then realize how that sounds. I elaborate, "I'd be awake, making sure you're safe."
"Right," she says as she looks at her feet, the toe of her shoe drawing lines on the floor.
"I'll stay," I say. "So long as you promise to ask me to leave if you decide that me being here makes you the least bit uncomfortable."
"I will," she promises, but I can sense a hint of something in her voice.
"I mean it, Juliet. There will be no repercussions, no guilt, no coercion to get you to change your mind. If you want me gone, you just tell me, and I'm out. That's how this works. Promise."
"I promise," she says.
"Then I'll stay," I say.
"I can make dinner," she says, heading to the kitchen as if a huge weight has just been lifted off her shoulders.