Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I catch his reflection in the window. He’s pensive with his forehead wrinkled in thought. But there’s a peacefulness to him that steals my breath, a sense of calm unusual for Gannon.
As much as I hate Tatum, maybe Gannon seeing her tonight was a good thing. Perhaps he knew he needed this closure and that it would be a difficult conversation … so he took me with him.
Take that, Tatum.
“I’ll give him a knuckle sandwich then,” he says.
“Again, he’s old. That’s not a fair match.”
He snorts. “Do you know how old I am? It’d be a fair match.”
“Whatever. You look like you’re thirty and fuck like you’re twenty, so shut up.”
“Hey, I’ll take that.” He smiles against me. “Do you want to talk about your father? I just dumped a load of shit on you about mine, so if you want to dump yours on me, I’m here.”
I shake my head. “No. I’d rather talk about how you could almost be my father.”
“The hell I could! I was …” He pauses to do math. “Thirteen when you were born.”
“Hey, that happens.”
“Not legally.”
I grin, teasing him. “I’m taking it you don’t have a daddy fetish.”
“Stop it, Carys.”
“How many times have you said that to me?” I say, giggling.
“Too fucking many. And you never listen, so I don’t know why I bother.”
I laugh loud and free for the first time since we got back in the SUV. So much happened tonight, but we got through it. We’re getting through it.
Although the thought of getting through it scares the shit out of me, because it insinuates continuity, it gives me peace, too. It makes me … happy.
Gannon rewraps his arms around me. “You’re staying with me this weekend.”
“Was that a question?”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t have clothes, a toothbrush, or my vitamins. I also need my computer for a few things for work because I need to order some supplies for next week. Margot is having me swing by on Wednesday to show her how to care for her orchids.”
“Sounds like a blast.”
“I love orchids.” I smile. “But I’d love to stay the weekend with you if you can arrange for Gray to drop me off at home. I can get my stuff and drive the Gremlin to your house.”
“You and that fucking car.”
I lean up and pout. “That car is my ride or die.”
“Yeah, you can ride in it today until it dies tomorrow.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Carys, there’s a reason people don’t drive cars from the seventies.”
I smirk. “You’d look so hot driving it.”
“Never going to happen.”
“Please. Just around your driveway.”
“No.”
“Shirtless.” I moan. “Let me video it and I’ll do something for you. We’ll trade favors.”
He pulls me against him, burying his head in the crook of my neck until I squirm.
The security curtain descends, and the music is turned down. Gray glances back in the rearview mirror as we roll to a stop at a light.
“Mr. Brewer?” he asks.
“Can you take us to Carys’s, please? She needs to get a few things.”
“Address?”
“It’s 3086 Aviana Drive.”
I grin. “Ooh, that’s good. You didn’t know my name the first time you saw me in Tate’s office, but now you just rattle off my address like it’s nothing? Victory is mine.”
He looks away, trying not to smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
He rolls his eyes. “Like I didn’t know your name.”
“I knew it!” I laugh. “You tried so hard to play the tough guy, but I knew you knew my name.”
His mouth comes to my ear, his breath hot against the shell. “And now I know a lot more about you, my favorite being how you taste.”
“Keep it up and you’ll be proving that via a quickie at my house.”
“How much more do I have to say to ensure that happens?”
I smile, running a finger down his stubble. “You already did.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gannon
“It’s a sansevieria trifasciata, also known as a snake plant.”
I run my fingers down the waxy leaves, replaying the day Carys strutted into my office with this thing in her hands. It feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
What did I do before she came into my life?
Did I cook dinner alone? What side of the bed did I sleep on? Who picked out my ties in the morning?
It’s been three weeks since the gala and we haven’t spent a full day apart.
I’m getting too used to having Carys making an absolute mess of my life in the best ways. She leaves water glasses all over the house. The cap is never back on the toothpaste, and I don’t know how there’s any hair left on her head considering the strands I find in our bed, the shower, and on top of the vanity.
But, God, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I march to my desk and find my phone buried under a pile of folders. Her name is at the top of the list. I press the green button and listen to it ring.