Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Talk to O’Malley about the project again,” I say, staring at him.
He shakes his head. “You don’t get it. That’s never happening.”
“That’s the thing. It’s going to happen. Even if I have to make sure certain seats on the committee need to get filled because their former occupants had sudden and unexpected accidents. Talk to O’Malley again and let her know that you cherish your worthless life and want to reconsider.”
I walk back inside. Threatening him like that should be beneath me, and I’m pissed at myself that I stooped to it, but his little speech dug under my skin and jabbed a knife into every single one of my insecurities.
Elena must see how I’m feeling when I come back into the kitchen. She gets to her feet and walks over, making some excuse about refilling our drinks.
“We need to go,” I say to her very quietly. “Right now.”
Her eyes are all concerned and she nods, not even asking why. “Okay, I’ll make the excuses.”
Layla seems disappointed and Omar pretends like he wants us to stay longer when he comes back inside, but we get out of there a few minutes later. Back in the truck, in the darkness of the night, driving toward the oasis, I grip the wheel like I’m going to wrench it free.
“You can tell me what he said.” Elena’s watching me from her seat. She doesn’t look angry. There’s no rage in her eyes.
“Why, so you can use it against me the next time I decide to say something stupid to you?” I grind my jaw, hating myself. She’s not doing anything wrong.
But she doesn’t rise to my bait. “Come on, Omar clearly did something to upset you. Just tell me what he said and maybe I can help.”
“You don’t have to fix everything.” I give her a hard look. If I were a different kind of man, I’d melt against her. I’d tell her everything and hope she could make me feel better. But I’m the boss of my family, and I don’t get the luxury of complaining about some prick politician that hurt my fucking pathetic feelings.
“We’re married. That’s what we should do.”
“I thought you hated me.”
She lets out a little noise and looks away. “You said something stupid. I’m mad at you for it. But I don’t hate you.”
I’m quiet and let that sit with me. Some of my anger begins to soften as I pull onto the oasis. I park out front and this time walk her to the door. We pause on the porch together and I catch her hand before she can go inside. “I shouldn’t have said it. I know this place is important to you and I shouldn’t have brought up the attack like that.”
“Are you apologizing?” Her eyebrows are raised and there’s a playful look in her eye.
“More or less.”
“Amazing. I feel warm all over.” She sighs and shakes her head. “You’re always like this, aren’t you? All pent-up and angry?”
“I like to think of myself as a serious businessman.”
That gets a laugh. “Sounds really healthy.”
I like the way her body softens when she’s laughing, even if it’s at my expense. “Come have dinner with me and my siblings, and I’ll tell you what Omar said tonight.”
She licks her lips. “All of your siblings?”
“Sunday dinner. You’ll love it.”
“Honestly? I probably will. But where are we going afterward?”
“My house. I’ll even decorate for you.”
She pushes open her door and turns to go inside. But she turns back to look at me and there’s that wide-open smile again. My stomach tightens, and she’s so fucking gorgeous I could drag her back across the seat and kiss her.
“If you can decorate in a day, I’ll agree to sleep over. But only if you can keep your hands to yourself.”
“We’ll see about that,” I murmur as she slams the door in my face. No kiss goodnight.
Chapter 13
Elena
Brody’s right. I adore Sunday dinner.
It’s my kind of scene. His whole family meets in one house that’s way too small for them and they do nothing but argue, make jokes, laugh, drink, gamble, watch sports, and eat. It’s basically heaven, and it helps that I genuinely like everyone, especially his sister Molly. She’s a little bit older than me but we have an extremely similar vibe. She’s all hippie-ish with peasant tops and flowy skirts and a bunch of tattoos, but she’s hard and she has a mouth that can stand up to any of the boys. We’ve got the same kind of energy too; somehow, she manages to keep up with me, which is pretty rare.
They’re so comfortable. That’s the best part. Some families are a little strained, a little awkward, but not the Quinns. They’re vicious and hilarious and it’s clear they’ve been doing this little get-together for years because they enjoy it.