Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“Lucas!” I heard a yell behind me.
I spun around just in time to see Quinn dig in her backpack and pull out something small. Rushing over to me, she handed me the circular metal case.
“Now you have to come back.” She smiled and then dashed off, back to her seat on the ground.
Pinching my eyebrows together, confused, I opened my hand, immediately recognizing the compass her mom gave to her one year for Christmas.
Shit. This was vintage and an heirloom. If she didn’t want it back, her family would. I couldn’t keep it.
I flipped it over, studying the piece, and saw the words inscribed on the back. “Happiness is a direction, not a place.”
She was wise, even then. She knew that no matter where I ran, I’d bring my shit with me.
I set the Cubs cap down next to my keys to take to the party tonight. I want her to have it. If I can’t be here, my heart can.
I clean out the sink and wipe down the counters, hearing the doorbell ring. I toss the cloth down and head to the door.
A FedEx driver stands on the porch. “Lucas Morrow?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He hands me a phone with a stylus. “Sign here, please.”
I scribble my name and swap him for the package, closing the door.
I inspect the box, recognizing the Dubai address. I sigh, wondering what emergency I missed that my assistant needed to overnight a package from across the world.
But as I peel open the tissue paper, I don’t see a tablet or documents inside. A small white box sits on top of a soft, white twill button-down, and I pick it up, rubbing the fabric between my fingers.
My stomach sinks. What is she up to?
Setting the shirt down, I open the smaller package and take out a bottle of cologne.
I cock an eyebrow as I swipe up a card with my assistant’s writing on it.
Leave three buttons open.
And wear the cologne. It’s lethal. I want to impregnate every man who wears it.
Have fun tonight.
-Isobel
Impregnate. A laugh catches in my throat.
And what does she mean, tonight? To the cookout at Madoc’s? How does she know about…?
But then it occurs to me. My calendar. I’d put it in my phone. I box the shit back up, ready to get it out of the way for the real estate agent and potential buyer.
But…
I do need a clean shirt tonight.
Quickly, I remove it from the box and hang it up in the closet, setting the box on the floor.
Taking my laptop case, I walk to my car at the curb, sweeping the street for that Traverse I’ve seen twice now. I want to see it. I want to know who’s inside and that Madoc and the others are safe if I leave.
The street is nearly empty, though. I climb into my car.
I’ll kill time at the gym, catch up on some emails, and maybe get some lunch before I head back here to shower and see Madoc for the last time.
It would be better to blow it off and leave now.
But I know I’ll go to the party, and I know why, even if I push the thought away before it can take form.
I just want to make sure she gets the hat back. That’s all.
A breath stuck in my chest, I drive to Madoc’s.
I go through the list in my head. Say goodbye to Tate, Juliet, and all the kids. Madoc and Fallon will be last. Don’t forget Jason and Katherine.
Farrow Kelly and Noah Van der Berg will probably be there as friends of the families. I don’t need to address them.
And give Quinn the hat. Assuming I can keep the compass.
What if she’s not there? I punch the gas, telling myself it’s better if she’s not. I’m a little worried about looking into her eyes and saying goodbye again.
It’ll be good to get back home, though. To the salty sea air. The spices and sunbaked desert. The sounds of the music pouring out of shops and the feel of my sheets.
Unable to stop the image before it comes, I see Quinn in my head, on top of me and barely shrouded in the shadow of the drapes over the moonlight that streams through my window in my apartment. The sheets fall down her legs like water as she presses her body into mine.
My mouth falls open. What would it be like to have her out there with me, all to myself, for a visit? I could. No one would think a thing if I looked out for her while she travels. And we wouldn’t be here, so I wouldn’t have to be on guard. I mean, why not?
All to myself…
Another image flashes through my mind, her in my bed, every night…
Her moans hit my ear, and my groin swells and aches, making me groan. The car swerves, and I jerk the wheel, tires screeching under me.