Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I expected Magnus to defend his friend, to argue with me and tell me I was mistaken, but he merely nodded.
“I don’t think he’s a threat to you,” I clarified. “I just think he’s keeping something from you.”
“Thank you,” Magnus responded softly. We both hung there for a moment, our bodies perfectly lined up, the air around us rife with tense silence. If he’d been any other man, I would have pressed my advantage. But I was still reeling from his admission about him liking that I was watching his back.
I believed him.
I couldn’t say why I believed him, but I did. Maybe it would come back and bite me in the ass, but I had to think that there was no other reason for him to go through so much trouble to try and convince me. My job was to protect him no matter what. And truth be told, I would have done it even if it wasn’t my job.
As the silence dragged on and Magnus continued to hold on to my arm, I knew I needed to get us back on track or I’d end up doing something that would undo whatever truce we’d managed to reach.
“You’re way more fuckable, though.”
It took Magnus a moment to register what I’d said. I smiled when he seemed to focus, hoping he’d realize I was just messing around with him. He was quiet for another beat and then a small grin flitted across his pretty mouth.
“Glad to hear it,” he said with a chuckle. The tension broke and he released my arm. He stepped back enough to let me pass. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Us old guys need as much sleep as we can get.”
I laughed. “Don’t forget to take out your dentures, Pop-pop.”
The sound of Magnus’s laughter did something to me I couldn’t even describe…something I was too afraid to even try to. I walked out the door, but paused in the doorway and turned around. “Hey, Magnus,” I called. He was next to his nightstand removing his watch which for some reason I found really sexy.
“Yeah?”
“I do, you know.”
“Do what?” he asked.
I sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge. “Have your back.”
Another smile lit up his face. “I know you do, Dante.”
And with that I left the room and headed down the stairs to the den. I had a report to call in. But I wouldn’t tell Memphis that Magnus and I seemed to have turned some kind of corner.
Because I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that we had. But it was one hell of a start. Now all I had to do was not fuck it up.
Yeah, right.
* * *
I was in the midst of putting the dishes into the dishwasher when I heard Magnus say, “Do you want to say hi to Dante?”
I’d only been half-listening as Magnus video chatted with Matty in the living room, but the sound of my name had me pausing. In the few days since the day we’d arrived, Magnus and I had somehow managed to continue our truce. I suspected much of that had to do with how busy we’d kept ourselves working on getting the house fixed up along with preparing for the upcoming service for Jenna which was taking place the next day. Magnus had been pretty quiet and I couldn’t say I really blamed him. He was clearly struggling with having to take the final step of saying goodbye to his daughter.
I’d seen a glimpse of his grief two days earlier when we’d gone to the cemetery so Magnus could pick out the location where his daughter’s headstone would be placed. I’d respected his request to stay by the car since I’d had a good view of anyone coming or going, but I’d only had eyes for Magnus as he’d wandered around the small stretch of land with the caretaker, looking at what his options were. He’d told me it would only take a few minutes, but it had ended up taking closer to an hour because once Magnus had picked the spot he’d wanted, he’d just stood there for the longest time, his gaze on the swath of empty, rolling land that bumped up against that side of the cemetery. I’d expected tears or some kind of emotion when he’d finally returned to the car, but there’d been nothing. The only evidence I’d seen that he was far from okay was the fact that he hadn’t wanted to see the headstone when the caretaker offered to show it to him and that he’d asked me to drive us back to the house. He’d spent the rest of the day working on repairing the damaged sections of fencing around the horses’ two paddocks. He hadn’t been interested in dinner and he’d ended up going to bed before darkness had even fallen, saying he had a headache.