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)
Jared’s eyebrows are etched in a deep V, but he doesn’t say anything.
He loves his life. No matter how much he pouts or grumbles or bitches, he loves everything exactly as it is, and is desperate to keep it that way, because he and Jax know how bad life can get. They’re grateful and don’t want to tempt fate.
Madoc’s childhood was different. He doesn’t really know darkness. He has enough dreams to share with those who don’t have any.
A senator, though… People will dig into his life.
And the lives of those he loves. I almost shrink, my past still forefront in my mind.
The air is still, and no one moves.
Suddenly, Jax asks, “Is your dick still pierced?”
Jared actually breaks into laughter, and I snort, going to pick up the ball.
“Really?” Madoc gripes.
I serve the ball. “That might look bad in the press.”
“It’s the least of what could look bad.” Madoc slams the ball back. “There are pictures of things.”
Jared spins around, Jax quirks an eyebrow.
Madoc shrugs. “Fallon likes to tie me up for sex.”
Everyone reels with joy, laughing so hard we’re damn near crying. Of course, she does.
We volley for another minute, and I relish this. It’s not like I’m his kid anymore. It’s like I’m one of his brothers.
Jax slams the ball too hard for anyone to respond. “It’s getting late.”
“Did Quinn make it home safely?” Madoc asks, his eyes moving around to all of us as he collects the ball.
“I didn’t get a call for a ride,” Jared breathes out.
“That Farrow Kelly kid is pissing me off,” Madoc grumbles. “He keeps hanging around her.”
Jax moves for the door. “He’s not that bad.”
“He’s a criminal.”
“So was I.”
We trail out, Madoc bringing up the rear. “And do you want him doing to Quinn what you did to Juliet?”
I pull on my hoodie, catching the corner of Jax’s grin as he no doubt reminisces over his and his wife’s volatile early days together.
A brick settles into the pit of my stomach. I’m not so worried about Farrow now. Or Noah. But they won’t resist her if she’s interested. Not for a second.
“Find her someone we like then,” Jared chimes in. “Otherwise, she’s just going to end up with one of these guys simply for a lack of options.”
I open my mouth to shut them up. She’s twenty-one goddamn years old. What’s the hurry?
But I’m afraid my irritation will reek of jealousy. I feel like it’s burned into my forehead for everyone to see.
Jax tosses his racket to Jared. “I got to get back to the summer camp. Can you stop by the bakery and check on her?”
“I got it.” I wipe off my forehead with my sleeve. “I wanted to see if I could steal some leftovers for Fallon’s workshop in the morning anyway.”
Jared gives me a nod of thanks as I move to grab my bag and water.
Madoc slaps me on the back. “Give her a hug from us.”
Yeah. I don’t tell him that I’m a criminal, too, but the irony isn’t lost on me.
I leave the treadmill area, hearing Jax behind me. “Is she on birth control?”
Jesus. I shake my head too little for anyone to see.
“We’re her birth control,” Jared replies.
I exit the gym, leaving them behind and climbing into my car. Something about how they talk about her bugs me, and it shouldn’t because I hover and talk down to her, same as them. As if I have more of a right to be invasive than they do.
But maybe I do. I want to be her friend. I want her to be happy.
And they do, too, as long as that path includes celibacy.
I lay on the pedal faster than I wish, hating that I’m anxious to see her. Is she still at work? Did she get a ride? I nearly hold my breath, waiting to make a left, and then another, until the shop comes into view.
Parking in the alley behind the bakery, I leave the car running and knock on the back door.
We’re friends…
I want the world for her.
“Who is it?”
I lean in. “Lucas.”
She unlocks the door, greeting me without a smile, but her eyes are soft and wide. She just wears her black pants and sneakers, with a T-shirt. Her baker’s jacket is gone.
“Missed you at the gym,” I tell her.
“I know.” She turns and walks back into the bakery.
I follow.
“I’m overloaded with orders in red, white, and blue.” She laughs, turning back around and slipping her purse over her head. “I have to be back in seven hours.”
Locks of hair spill out of her ponytail, and she doesn’t look the least bit overworked. Her big, brown eyes gleam fresh and happy.
I clear my throat. “Want a…a ride?” I jerk my thumb to the door and my car parked on the other side of it.
She hesitates. “I’m going to Weston.”