Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“You left.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t want to interrupt your roller disco.”
“It’s not a disco. I was working.”
“Sure.” He doesn’t smile. Not even a little.
“Look, I didn’t…” My pulse skips up my neck. “He sent the box. I didn’t ask for it. It’s just clothes. And skates. It’s not a message or whatever you think it is.”
His arctic eyes stay on me as his face shifts into an eerie calm. A quiet, curling fury. Warrior-mode. Beautiful and terrifying.
“Kai will collect the box and bring it to the island.” He pockets his phone and empties his expression. “If you want to keep it, fine. If not, we can burn it. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Okay.” I blink.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“What?”
“I want to show you something.” He crushes the cigarette under his heel. “You game?”
I nod, too fast.
“Let’s go.” He offers his elbow.
“Where are Carl and Jasper?” I loop my arm through his and let him lead me away from the harbor.
“Didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with the security team.” He tilts his head, regarding me. “Do you trust them more than me?”
“No.” An easy, honest answer. But I have questions. “What do you want, Wolf?”
“Kisses on speed dial.”
“You didn’t text me today.”
He glances at me sideways, that crooked smirk reappearing. “Figured I’d give your phone a break before it filed a restraining order.” Then, softer, like he means it… “Didn’t think you’d miss me.”
“I did.” A swallow strangles my whisper. “I missed you. I thought… Did something happen? Did Jag show up?”
“Yeah. I gave him a tattoo.”
I slam to a stop, releasing his arm. “You didn’t.”
“I did. It was fucked up.”
“The tattoo?”
“All of it. But I made a deal with him.”
“No. No, you don’t deal with Jag. You don’t negotiate.” I grip my hair, knocking the messy bun loose and waving my arms around. “He doesn’t play fair. He manipulates and twists your mind until he gets what he wants.”
“Hey.” He catches my hands and brushes the fallen strands from my face, the metal from his rings cold against my cheek. “You don’t think I know that? I told you I would lure him in and play with him. That’s all this is. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, but I don’t trust him.”
“Let’s keep moving.” He scans our surroundings, his head on a swivel. “I’ll tell you about my day.”
And he does. As we stroll along the wet streets, he walks through the confrontation with his family at the shop, the negotiation he struck with Jag, and the thigh piece he spent all day inking. The beginning of a long and dangerous leg sleeve.
“What’s the design?
“A jaguar.”
Disgust and worry send my heart rate into overdrive. “He’ll try to seduce you.”
“He already tried.”
“And?”
“He’s not my type.”
“He’s everyone’s type.”
“Including yours?”
“He’s my stepbrother.” My arms wrap around my midsection before I register the defensive posture.
“What did he do to you?” He bends his knees, putting his face level with mine.
“Exactly what he’ll do to you if you continue down this path.” I spot the pack of smokes peeking from his coat pocket and swipe them, seeking a distraction.
Before I pull one free, he snatches the pack from my hand.
“Clear something up for me.” He tucks the cigarettes in his back pocket.
I brace for the question I will never answer.
“Are you a smoker?” He tilts his head. “Or am I a bad influence?”
Relief loosens my breath, and a smile touches his sculpted lips.
He’s letting me off the hook. For now.
“Both.” I smile back.
The cold, damp air sticks to our coats as he leads me around the corner. The next thing I know, we’re standing before the fogged glass doors of a local diner, the kind that smells like hash browns and burnt coffee no matter the hour.
“This is what you wanted to show me?” I follow him inside, the dining room half-full of locals hunched over plates and mugs.
“No.” He slides into a booth and waves down the server. “First, I want to feed you.”
As I start to sit opposite him, he grabs my hand and pulls me down to his side.
“Two mugs of coffee.” He wraps an arm around my waist, tugs me until our hips press together, and smiles at the older woman. “Two cheeseburgers, extra pickles, curly fries, and a slice of blueberry pie, warmed. One fork.” He angles that sexy grin toward me. “Anything else?”
“Are the pickles negotiable?” I shrug off my jacket.
“Not tonight.” He raises a brow, daring me to fight him over it.
No way in hell.
The coffee arrives first, thick and bitter. I drown mine in cream while he takes his black, one hand wrapped around the chipped mug, the other resting casually near the napkin dispenser. He’s more relaxed now. The kind of relaxed that comes after a knife fight.
“So.” I twist toward him. “Tell me more about your day with Jag.”