Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Damon was a really good kid,” I agreed. “I wish I’d gotten to know him better.”
“You missed out on the entire world.” His eyes were intense. “But you won’t miss out on anymore, will you?”
I was already shaking my head. “No.”
“Good.” He leaned his hips against the counter. “What’s your plan with Goodwin?”
I smiled. “It’s probably best that you don’t know. So you don’t get implicated.”
His eyes were alight. “If you fucking take this away from me, kid, I’ll refuse to give my permission for you to marry her.”
I chuckled. “You could withhold it, but she’d marry me anyway.”
“You’re so sure?” he asked.
I nodded. “You asked me that two months ago, I would’ve told you that you were fucking crazy. But she’s given me everything now, and I’m done staying away. It’s what we both want.”
“But you’ll let me still help, won’t you?”
“As soon as Apollo finds him, yes,” I confirmed. “Though, he’s having issues. Apollo can’t find him. He’s thinking that the military erased him. He’s probably special forces, or high in the government. Someone who has the power or ability to erase that kind of information never means good things.”
Week grunted in reply. “Also, what does he do that he has to have that kind of information erased? Yeah, I’m not thinking good things, either.” He looked sick. “I’ve been looking for him since it happened.”
That had me freezing.
“I’ve paid almost a hundred thousand dollars looking into this kid,” he said. “That fucker’s parents have hidden him well.”
I clapped him on shoulder and said, “You let me handle it from here. I’ll bring you in when I’m sure we won’t get caught.”
Week’s grin was harsh as he said, “Don’t have a wife. Don’t have a grandkid. Know my kid is safe with you…” He looked at me so seriously then that I had trouble breathing for a second. “That’s why you came here, right?”
I didn’t beat around the bush. “Yes.”
“You have my permission,” he said. “She’s had a thing for you since she first saw you riding your bike down the road in front of our house.”
My lips twitched. “I was a menace on that bike.”
“I know.” He leveled me with a quelling look. “You took out my wife’s begonias with that bike. I had to spend all damn weekend replacing them after you did that.”
I grimaced. “I was an asshole.”
“You were,” he agreed. “But that assholish behavior got you on my girl’s radar. And I can’t say that I’m complaining about it right now, seeing as you’re set on righting a wrong I haven’t been able to yet.”
That sobered me up quickly. “Creole’s always meant the world to me, you know.”
“I know.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Only a man who’s hurt bad disappears on someone he loves.”
“You knew I loved her?” I grinned.
“You don’t hide your feelings for Creole well.” He opened the door when I moved to head that way. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing, not being able to hide your feelings from the woman that’s supposed to mean the world to you.”
No, I didn’t think so, either.
“Just don’t go to jail,” I said. “I have a good lawyer, but she’s busy right now with my shit.”
His laugh was loud and sudden. “I’ll do my best. No promises, though. She’s the only thing I care about anymore.”
I shook his hand and headed back to my bike, then headed for the job site.
I worked until she called me to tell me she was awake, then I invited her to my sanctuary.
Eighteen
If I was a bird, I’d fly into a ceiling fan.
—Creole’s secret thoughts
CREOLE
I was expecting a beat-up trailer, not a sprawling double-wide with wraparound porches in the middle of nowhere, Texas.
“Wow,” I said. “This is beautiful.”
“Got it for a song,” he said. “I bought it from a guy who thought that country living was what he wanted. But he realized he couldn’t do the commute every day, so he sold it.”
“What commute?” I asked. “Honestly, I’m surprised you found this much land this close to the city.”
We were only about fifteen minutes outside of Plano, which was about ten minutes away from my dad’s place.
“What are you doing with all those row houses that you bought to build Laney’s house?” I wondered.
“Rental houses,” he said. “There are a few prospects that don’t give a shit about space and location, and I’m probably going to rent to them.”
“So you’re going to live here?” I wondered, trailing my fingers over the rough cedar wood that made up part of his huge front porch.
“I’d planned on it.” He looked at me. “It’s a little far from the airport, though.”
My heart melted. “I can commute…if you happened to want me to stay for a sleepover.”
His eyes warmed, and I knew that I’d said the right things.