Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I suspect that’s what Mia will do, but I’ll keep you posted.”
We say a few more words and disconnect. I set the phone down and press my hands to the island. How damn deep did Ri get inside my operation? And how the hell did I let that happen?
“I didn’t know we were planning to move the island?”
At Mia’s soft, musical voice, I straighten and find her standing a few feet away, looking beautiful as hell—her long light brown hair wavy and a bit wild today. Her make-up is light, lips glossed pale pink. Eyes bright with engagement. “What are you talking about, baby?”
She closes the space between us with a sexy little shimmy to her hips.
“You,” she says, stopping in front of me, “forgot to tell me that we’re relocating the island. You’ve been pushing it all morning. We might need a contractor.”
I laugh, and I’m not sure I laughed a day when we were apart. “Is that right?”
“Seems that way.”
“You’re crazy, woman,” I say, taking her purse and setting it on the island we’re presently discussing before wrapping my arm around her shoulders and folding her close. “Crazy good. And you always smell so damn good. You make me want to lick you all over.”
Her hand settles on my cheek. “As good as that sounds, it has to wait.”
“Why is that, exactly?”
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, Grayson, or did you get so used to dealing with things without me that you don’t need me?”
“Baby, I need you more than I need my next breath. You know that.”
“Then talk to me,” she prods softly. “It’s the whole death thing that messes with your head, right?”
“It’s a lot of things.” I release her and turn to the island, and the minute my hands go down on it, I laugh and turn to her. “Maybe we do need a contractor.”
She laughs, but she gives me a pleading look. “Grayson. Talk to me.”
“We’ll talk over lunch. How do you feel about Ed’s Diner?”
“I love Ed’s Diner. I really love it with you.”
And just that easily, she brings me back to the simple things in life. The important things like family, like her. The way my mother did for my father. This woman needs to be my wife. It’s long past due, and that’s why lunch isn’t our only stop this afternoon. I’m going to give us both a whole lot more than Ri and the FBI to think about when we go home.
Chapter fifty-one
Grayson
Iload up the Porsche with our luggage and then help Mia into the car. Once we’re on the road, on this clear October day, I update her on my call with Walker Security. “Blake’s going to swing by the apartment tonight with his wife and talk about security and the press this week.”
“Oh. Well, that sounds much less daunting than a formal meeting at his place. What changed?”
“I think he thought he’d have more to tell us than he does.”
She casts me a concerned look. “Is this not over, Grayson?”
“Ri infiltrated my operation. We haven’t named all of those names. They’re still present inside our world, capable of using our operation to do bad things. This week is going to be about flushing them out. For me, that is. You have a case to handle. I asked Blake about the ADA handling your case.”
She shifts in her seat toward me. “And?”
I pull us to a halt at a stoplight. “He’s dating another ADA who was working with RI to take me down.”
“I still can’t believe Ri convinced them you were dirty. And apparently, me with you. If I can’t get that ADA off my client’s case, I need to hand this case to someone else. But I don’t want to do that. I’m going to raise hell until I do.”
“That’s my feisty woman,” I say, sliding my hand down her hair. “Yes. You will.”
A few minutes later, we’re on the road, when Mia’s father calls me, not her. After assuring him she’s well, the call is short and over. Mia pretends indignance that he went around her, but I know his worry touches her. A few blocks later, we pull into one of our favorite places on the island, and I can feel my mood shift and lighten, but my determination to end this hell we’re living sets firmly in my gut. We’ve walked through flames to get back to each other. No one is taking it from us.
Soon, Mia and I are sitting on the waterfront patio of the restaurant in an enclosed area, with heaters blasting around us, the ocean the canvas to our conversation. “It’s almost the holidays,” she says, once we have bubbling champagne glasses in our hands. “It’s Halloween next weekend and then November.”
“And you’ll be home. It will be a much better year this year. Last year, Eric and I drank whiskey and ate the meal Leslie made for us before she left and went upstate to be with her family.”