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)
“Hey,” she says, her voice bright.
“How did your meeting go?”
“Great. Super great, actually. Things got a little mixed up, thanks to Margot, and I was supposed to be meeting her restaurateur friend and not the artist on the east side. So I had to do a little maneuvering to make it to my destination on time, but I pulled it off.”
I grin. “Of course, you did.”
She rambles on about ficus and ferns, and I listen and try to keep up. Plant terminology becoming a part of my daily vocabulary. The only reason I try to remember it is because it’s important to her.
And she’s important to me.
“Anyway,” she says, “they both hired me! I’m sending them contracts tonight and we should be good to go.”
“Good job. I’m so proud of you.”
She pauses, and I can almost hear her smile. “Thanks, Gannon.”
“So when are we celebrating?” I ask, meandering around my office. “I want to take you out to dinner. Someplace nice.”
“Yes! I can wear the purple dress from the Waltham gala again.”
“Or, you could go back to the store and buy the green and black dresses you returned.”
She laughs. “How do you remember those?”
“You obviously don’t remember how hot you were in them.”
“It’s been, what? Two weeks? Three? I barely remember what they looked like.”
“I have pictures. Want me to send them to you?”
She laughs again. “You’re rotten.”
“Dinner tonight, then?” I ask. “Wait. Fuck. I have a working dinner tonight with our attorneys. Do you want to join us?”
“Actually …” She groans. “Aurora called me a little bit ago to remind me about Dad’s party.”
“I thought you got out of that.”
“No. They postponed it because they got sick. It’s tonight at a restaurant near their house.”
I slide a hand in my pocket and try to keep my voice free from emotion. I want her to do what she thinks is best. But if it were my choice, I wouldn’t let her go. That bastard doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Carys.
How could he not be bursting at the seams with pride over her? She’s amazing. I don’t understand how he doesn’t see it or care.
“So you’re going?” I ask.
“I think so. I think I need to.”
Great. “Want me to go with you?”
“You just told me you’re having dinner with your attorneys,” she says.
“And if you need me to go with you, I’ll go with you.”
A small sigh ripples through the phone and hits me smack in the heart.
This woman owns me, and I don’t think she realizes it. However, I can’t just tell her because I’m afraid she’ll run. I also haven’t entirely worked out how to justify wanting her all to myself. A part of me thinks she should want someone younger, someone not as fucked up as I am.
But, if she did that, I’d probably have to borrow her shovel because she’s mine.
Could this be any more complicated?
“You’re sweet, but I need to do this alone, and you need to take care of your business,” she says. “And I’m positive those men know Tate.”
I groan. “You need to stop worrying about Tate.”
“He’s my best friend, Gannon. He won’t take it well if he finds out you and I are …”
I wait for her to describe us, but she doesn’t.
My youngest brother has been a pain in my ass since the day he was born. I thought that he’d have grown out of it by now. Instead, he’s a thorn in the most tender place in my life.
“What can he really say?” I ask.
“A lot.”
“Well, you’re right about that. The fucker never shuts up.”
She laughs. “I need to go. I have one more client to take care of before I can go home and get ready for dinner.”
“I really hate that you’re not working here three days a week.”
“Then buy more plants.”
Good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Call me when you’re on your way home from dinner, okay?” I ask.
“We’re meeting at six thirty, but I’m going to run to the lab and get my bloodwork done for my life insurance first so Mom will get off my back. I imagine we’ll be at dinner for maybe an hour. Dad is usually ready to escape me as quickly as possible.”
My jaw flexes. “If you need me, call me. Anytime.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
This woman owns me. There’s no denying it. I want to be with her as she faces her father. I want her to be at Brewer Group three days a week so I can see her more. I want her to be in my bed every night, and I can’t imagine a future without her.
I need her.
Carys Johnson went from being my little brother’s best friend to quickly becoming my entire world. Somehow, though, it’s not surprising. She might say she’s not a relationship person, but her actions say otherwise. No one has ever made me feel seen, valued, and appreciated as much as her. I know how lucky I fucking am.