Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Bernie groans. “Let’s not go there.”
“Roger that.”
Bernie returns to bartending, and I return to moping.
This should be so easy. I have a rich, handsome, obsessed man out there, practically begging to be my husband to take care of our unborn child. I should be throwing myself at him, taking everything he has to offer, and living the high life. Sure, they’re gangsters and murderers, and sure, this baby wasn’t planned, but the Crowleys are rich, and Nolan seems to genuinely want to be a father.
Why not put myself out of my own misery and just be the guy’s stinking wife?
Because it all comes back to the damn donut shop.
I wanted something for myself. I wanted to be my own person. Instead, I got tangled up with Nolan, and now I don’t know where I begin and where he ends. It’s like this baby’s bound us together, and no matter what I do, he’s going to be there.
The night passes. Jamila comes in and kills a few hours with me before heading home to the apartment. I stay until the place empties out ten minutes before closing time, and I’m finally exhausted enough to go sleep on the couch. Before I can head out, another person takes the stool next to me.
I flinch when I look over to find Carson Crowley sitting there, hunched forward on his elbows. Bernie brings him a drink, a glass of whiskey, without him having to ask.
“I guess you’re a regular here these days,” I say, studying my brother-in-law. Technically, anyway.
“I pick up my wife most nights, when I’m not detained by business.”
“Are you detained by business late at night often?”
“In my line of work, yes, I am.” He glances at me, his face betraying nothing. “Does that bother you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what bothers me anymore.” I sigh, rubbing my face. “I was just heading out. Have a good night.”
“Keely, wait.” He turns his glass in his hands. Ash stops by on her way to the back and gives him a quick kiss and shoots me a wink.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say once she’s gone.
Carson’s staring after her. The look on his face takes my breath away. It’s like he’s glowing—like that little bit of attention from Ash set his entire body on fire. It’s pure love, the most incredible and unfiltered love I’ve ever seen, like he worships that girl.
It’s incredible, and it reminds me of the way Nolan stares at me.
Slowly though, he glances back over, and his expression dulls again. “I understand this is difficult for you.”
“Why?” I ask him.
His eyebrows raise. “Why, what?”
“Why is this difficult for me? It shouldn’t be, right? Your brother wants to be in this baby’s life. He’s got means, he’s got connections. He could make my life so easy. So why’s it hard?”
Carson lets out a low laugh. “That’s a good point. You make it sound like you’ve made up your mind.”
“Except I haven’t. Not at all.”
He drums his fingers on the bar. “I can’t tell you what to do. You wouldn’t listen to me even if I could. But I will say that I believe Nolan is sincere about being in your life. My brother and I have been close for a very long time, despite the way things are right now, and I’ve never seen him so infatuated with someone before. Whenever you come into a room, he brightens.”
I think of the look Carson just gave Ash. “Like you do with your wife.”
His eyes narrow and he takes a drink. “Something like that.”
“If I decided I don’t want to be with him, what would happen? Would he really let me walk away?”
Carson shrugs. “I don’t think you understand how important that baby is. There are so few Crowley children.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t want my baby to be a Crowley. I don’t want them to be involved in the organization at all.”
Carson’s frown deepens. “You must have a very low opinion of us then.”
“You’re criminals. You can’t sit there and pretend like it’s totally normal.”
“Maybe not, but we’re family. No matter what, that means we take care of each other.” He pauses, takes another drink. “But there are layers to our organization.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take Finn, for example. My brother isn’t as involved as he once was, and I suspect his children will be tertiary at best. Just because you’re a Crowley doesn’t mean we’ll have you out on the street breaking knees.”
“I’d be good at that.”
He smiles. “I don’t doubt it. If you and Nolan decide your child shouldn’t be a part of that piece of the business, then they won’t be involved, simple as that.”
I nod to myself, studying my fingernails. “I still have to think.”
“Good. Think all you want.”
I stand. “Thanks for talking to me.”
“There’s a car waiting for you out front.”