Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
When he shuts the door, locking us inside the quiet of his house, I feel the tension I didn’t notice before coming off him in waves, and guilt hits me hard. I hate that he had to come home after what was probably a long day and get dragged into my situation. A situation that included him having a gun pulled on him.
“I’m really sorry.”
Turning toward me, his eyes lock on mine as he shrugs off his coat and tosses it onto the back of the couch. “I promise there won’t be any hard feelings if you want me to just call my parents and Liam to have them come help instea—”
“It’s fine.” His hands flex at his sides, and I fight the urge to bite my lip or shift on my feet as he stares at me.
Growing up, I had a crush on him, and even my mom used to think he was cute. But he’s not cute anymore. His features are harder, his jaw and cheekbones sharp. The outline of muscles under the tight material of his shirt hints at the power he carries within his big body, and the tattoos that cover his arms give him an air of mystery and danger. He’s no longer the boy I used to know, and I feel off-kilter around this version of him.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks over his shoulder as he walks away, leaving me no choice but to follow behind him.
“Yeah, I ate with Mom and Dad earlier. Have you eaten?” I step into his kitchen, that is just as nice as the living room and completely updated, with deep-gray cabinets, chrome appliances, and quartz countertops streaked in warm hues of gray and gold.
“Not yet,” he mutters, going to a set of glass doors where Gemma is waiting to be let out. “I’ll get something later.”
I catch a glimpse of his covered back deck when he opens the door, and it looks just as nice as the inside of his house. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know—”
“I’m fine,” he interrupts me. “Let’s just make the calls and get things sorted.”
“Right,” I whisper, the twist of guilt wrapping around my insides getting tighter. Pulling out one of the leather-topped stools at the bar, I take out my phone, as I hop up onto it and dial Liam’s number first.
When it goes to voicemail, I don’t bother leaving a message. I know he will never listen to it. I hang up and send him a text, telling him what happened and asking him to call me back. Then I dial my parents’ number as I watch Bax pull out a small can of food and pop the lid on it. The sound it makes is distinctive, and within seconds, a black shadow zooms across the kitchen floor and right to him—not to the food. When the feline gets up on its back paws, wanting to be picked up, he lifts it off the floor and cradles it in the crook of his muscular, tattooed arm.
“Olivia,” Mom answers, and I open my mouth and shut it. Maybe I’m not surprised that Bax has a pretty black cat since I know his cousin is a vet and that she works hard at finding homes for all the animals who come in but don’t have a place to go after she nurses them back to health. I am, however, surprised to see him so willfully cuddle the cat, who has obviously claimed him as its human. “Olivia, honey, are you there?”
Damn.
“Umm… sorry, Mom. I’m here.” I drop my eyes from Bax and focus on the gold-and-gray coloring of the counter. “Remember how I mentioned that my stuff was getting delivered?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s here, but I’m going to need some help unloading everything.”
“I thought you paid someone to do that.”
“I did.” I sigh, then explain what happened. By the time I hang up with her, she’s got on her shoes, and she and Dad are getting ready to leave. A few minutes later, Bax comes back into the kitchen from wherever he disappeared to while I was on the phone.
“My cousin Jax and my brother Talon are on their way.”
“My mom and dad are coming. I couldn’t get ahold of Liam.”
“He’s probably out.”
“Probably.” I look down at my feet when I feel something soft brush against my leg. “Hey, pretty kitty.”
“That’s Ira,” he says, and I lean down to scratch the top of her head.
“She’s sweet.” I look up at him. “Another gift from your cousin?”
“No.” He smiles. “Or not directly. Talon took in Ira’s mom, Soma, and her littermates when they were dumped at July’s vet practice. I was over at his place one day, helping him with something, and Ira claimed me.” He eyes the cat now in my arms. “I’m surprised she’s out. Normally, when people are over, she hides until they’re gone,” he says. Then we both look at the back door when something clinks against it. I see Gemma waiting to be let back inside. “I’ll let her in, and then we can go see what’s happening out front.”