Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Before I head home, I stop at a tractor supply store and load up on things I’ll need for Riley if they spend a significant amount of time at my place. It may be presumptuous, but dammit, I want them at the farm with me as much as possible.
And so, with all of the gear Riley could need loaded up in the truck, I set off for home.
Chapter Ten
SKYLA
“Well, this is unexpected, my friend.” I usher Riley inside and close the door behind us, setting the alarm. “I think I have a huge crush on my best friend’s brother.”
I wrinkle my nose at that, then let out a little laugh. Riley stomps his feet as if he thinks it’s funny, too.
“You like him. You’re relaxed with him here, and that’s very telling.” I lean down and kiss the top of Riley’s head, then give him scratches behind his ears. “You were a very good boy in those restaurants. That means you get a special treat.”
His ears perk up at that, and I gasp as if I’m excited, too.
“Yes, you do. What a good boy.” Riley follows me into the pantry, and I get him one of the chews that he loves. It only takes him fifteen minutes to devour it, but he still loves them all the same, and with it proudly in his mouth, Riley scampers off to his favorite bed to enjoy his treat.
With thoughts of a shower in my mind, I walk down the hallway to my bedroom, and Riley follows, then curls up on his bedroom bed to continue working on his chew.
He’s been trained to always stick close to me, and I love that I have him nearby. He’s like a security blanket.
Before I can take my shirt off, my phone rings, and I smile.
“Where are you, and what time is it there?” I ask Connor.
“I’m in Paris, and it’s late. What are you doing?”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him about my date.
“Skyla?”
“Well, I was just going to take a shower. I had a date last night—slash—today.” I bite my lip again as silence descends over the line.
“With whom?” he asks, his voice hard.
“Stop it. I’m great. I had a nice evening with a nice guy, who isn’t a psychopath, thank you very much.”
“How do you know?”
“How do you know that the women you sleep with aren’t psychopaths? Christ, not that I slept with him. But you know what I mean.”
“Skyla, I’m in no mood for this. Who the feck is he?”
“For the love of all the saints, Connor, it was just Beckett Blackwell. Billie’s brother. Stop being a shite and tell me why you’re calling me from Paris. Also, how pretty is it there right now? Are the trees blooming then?”
“Aye, they are,” he says. “You should come with me next time.”
“I have a business here,” I remind him. “Tell me what you’re about.”
“I want you to change the codes on the doors again, and I’m going to hire security detail for your house.”
“No.” I shake my head and sit on the side of my bed. Immediately, Riley rushes to me and lays his head in my lap. He can tell I’m agitated. “I don’t want strangers wandering around my property, Connor.”
“I don’t bloody care.”
“What’s brought this on?”
“The Arsehole is back in the States, a stór. And he’s been googling you.”
I lean forward, burying my face in Riley’s neck.
“But he’s in New York City,” I reply, my voice a little muffled.
“For now, yes.”
“And he can’t find where I am. This house is owned by the corporation. My business is owned by an LLC that doesn’t circle back to the family in any way.” I lift my face and sigh. “I’m safe here, Connor.”
“I still want you to change the code.”
“What good does that do?” I demand as I stand to pace my bedroom. “If he can figure out a six-digit alarm code, it shouldn’t matter how often I change it.”
“Let me hire the men,” he says, softening his voice because he knows I’ll react better if he’s not demanding. “At least until he leaves the country again.”
“He may never leave the country again,” I remind him.
“Yes, he will. I don’t like that he’s looking for you.”
I’m suddenly so tired of all of this bullshite. “I’m fine, Connor. I have Riley, a bloody secure house, and I’m in a small town. I don’t want strangers walking around my property, and that’s that. I know you’ll be keeping an eye on if he leaves New York and where he goes, so unless he’s bought an airline ticket out West, I’m keeping things the way they are. You can’t just lock me down all of the bloody time. I’m going to live my life.”
The tension crackles through the phone.
“I don’t like it,” he says.