Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
But instead of a single question, Elliot brought me to his body, cradled my face and kissed me. Slowly, patiently. It was all-encompassing. I didn’t relax immediately, though. I was too wired, too afraid, too outside my own body. But Elliot endured, quietly coaxing me back, filling my extremities with warmth and strength.
Only when I’d completely melted into him, utterly gave myself over and felt my heart rate return to normal, did Elliot’s lips leave mine.
He still kept tight hold of me, forehead resting against mine. There was no anger in his eyes, only a twinge of concern he couldn’t hide.
“You wanna get back to work, Calliope Derrick?” he asked softly. “Any more of this and I’ll be forced to press you against this wall and fuck you. And that’ll probably be a lawsuit, considering the restaurant’s full of people within eyesight.”
He nodded to the bustling restaurant, which I had forgotten even existed for a moment.
The noises slowly filtered back into my ears, comforting me along with Elliot’s grip on me, grounding me.
I forced myself to smile. “I know some good lawyers, but let’s not risk it.” I tried to sound like myself, but who was that? Was that the stone-cold, depraved and possibly evil bitch Jasper knew? Or was it the new person I was with Elliot?
A wrinkle erupted between his eyes as Elliot heard the hitch in my voice. He kissed me gently again.
“Well, get back to work,” he ordered with a wink. “I heard the boss is a real hardass, and he already has plans for you for later.”
Despite the events of the night, I shivered in expectation, nodding. I let him walk me back to the dining area, the cozy restaurant that Jasper had just breached. He’d sullied it, and I knew in my heart that was the beginning of my end.
I went through the motions the rest of that night. I waited on tables, my smile pasted on as I spoke to people, my movements robotic until the last table was served.
I ate the lobster roll that Elliot wordlessly presented to me, with his unsaid order that I eat the whole thing.
I closed out my tables, weathered the withering glances from Betty—the blonde waitress—which had become routine by that point. I wouldn’t be surprised if the young girl had tried to make a deal with the devil to get me out of her life. I’d already done that and it was only a matter of time before my deal came due.
Beau came out from the kitchen to share a quick conversation with me and Elliot. The man was warming to me, as much as a man like Beau was capable of warming toward a woman who wasn’t his daughter.
I watched how he spoke to his poor nanny, all grunts and glowers. I didn’t know how she handled it. Luckily, she had Clara, who was a ray of sunshine and hopefully made her job worth it.
Beau said his goodbyes, eager to be back with his daughter who was now almost entirely ready to be in public without a mask, without all the precautions we’d been adhering to in order to ensure that she stayed healthy.
“I hope he pays his nanny well, considering all the emotional distress and toxic masculinity he exposes her to,” I said when he left.
Elliot chuckled. “I know for a fact he pays her well, but I agree, he could be a lot easier on her.” He paused, wiping down the bar top. “But I’m thinking it’s that old childhood, playground behavior. It’s always the ones who pick on the girls they like.”
I scowled. “First of all, that explanation was made to normalize men treating women badly. Fuck that bullshit. Don’t utter it again.” I wagged my finger at him. “Secondly, you really think that Beau likes Hannah?” I was categorically shocked.
I was also genuinely curious since I didn’t think Beau was capable of having feelings like that. And because I was desperate to get as far away from having to discuss Jasper as possible.
Elliot polished a glass, looking at the door his brother had exited before returning his attention back to me. “I could be wrong. I tend to be, especially when normalizing toxic male behaviors from childhood,” he teased. “But I know my brother. He’s rough around the edges, which have only gotten rougher with Clara being sick. But the interactions between the two of them are harsh even for Beau. And I don’t sign off on it. I’ve talked to him. As has my dad. We’ve both gotten our proverbial throats ripped out, which means that he cares more than he should and is probably punishing himself for it. Beau doesn’t let himself think he deserves good things. So he tends to fight against them. Punishes himself for wanting them in the first place.” His eyes seared into me with practiced intensity. “Not unlike someone else I know.”