Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“I’ve never closed a deal in my life, baby, that someone didn’t want to stop. We’ll do this. We’ll do it together. I’m not taking that ring back. I’m not even pretending to break our engagement. We need to plan our wedding, not postpone it. Our fathers don’t get that power over us.”
“You’re right, of course.”
“I am right. I love you. You love me. Fuck them for being such shitty parents. As for Christmas, I would love to spend it with you in our home because we’re starting our life. Now, order food. I’ll make phone calls. We’ll end this war and start our lives together.” And because her quickness to call off the engagement is bugging the fuck out of me, I add, “Unless you just don’t want to marry me.”
Her hands go to my face. “Of course, I want to marry you,” she vows, sincerity radiating in her voice. “So very much.”
Relief washes over me. I cup her backside and pull her snug against me. “Then fight for me, baby, like I am for you and us.”
“I am. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that I wasn’t. I’m not running. I’m not having second thoughts about us. I just—murder takes this to a whole new place. Murder is not sabotaging someone or ruining their business. It’s murder.”
“I knew this would rattle you and with good reason, but that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Not because I didn’t think you could handle it, but because you shouldn’t have to. I don’t want this to be your life but we’re already in the middle of this simply by being their children. Just know this, no one is going to die and we are going to live happily ever after with our dog and cat.”
She breathes out. “Yes, please. I am fighting. Fighting is all that works. I just wanted you to know that I’m willing to do whatever you need me to do to end this. Make your calls.” She kisses me. “I do think I need those French fries and most definitely the ice cream. It’s power fuel for the fight.”
“I’m all in on the power fuel.” I kiss her and release her, but not without a hell of a lot of regret. I hate so fucking much that our fathers placed this shadow over our engagement. I dial Gabe and update him. It’s a quick call that ends with us coming to the same conclusion: we need outside help. By the time I disconnect, Carrie has ordered food and I sit down on the couch with her. “Let’s make this next call together.”
“What call?”
“Gabe and I agree that we need backup, but I’m not going to rush back to New York and leave you here to worry. That was a wrong decision, a rare kneejerk decision on my part. I belong with you, so we’re going to call Royce Walker, of Walker Security, and we’re going to pay him whatever it takes for him to find a way to end this for us.”
“You think he can do that?”
“His team consists of ex-CIA agents, hackers, special ops, and every form of law enforcement you can name. This is the bottom line, Carrie. We need to hold take control and that means holding our parents as our captives. I have ideas on how to make this happen, but we need to let them play as dirty as necessary. Better that than anyone ending up dead. That means your father may feel pain, too. Are you okay with that?”
“Just keep him alive. So, yes. Yes, I am. Make the call. End this and then yes, let’s get married.”
Chapter seventy-seven
Carrie
Over the next hour, Reid and I talk to Royce, and despite the fact that Reid doesn’t tell Royce about the murder accusation, he does a good job of getting across our challenging circumstances. I’m listening to them talk and stuffing my mouth with a big bite of some chocolate volcanic concoction when Reid does what I don’t expect, but I should. This is the man I love after all. “I need Carrie’s father protected without knowing he’s being protected.”
“Consider it done,” Royce says. “And Carrie, consider him safe. My team is the best of the best. I’ll be in touch.”
Royce hangs up and I set my spoon down. “If I wasn’t already so damn in love with you,” I say, climbing onto his lap. “I’d be so damn in love with you.”
“Prove it,” he says, picking me up and carrying me to the bedroom where he lays me on the mattress and comes down on top of me. “Sleep with me, baby.”
I laugh. “No fucking?”
“Lots of fucking. That goes without saying.” He kisses me and I have never needed to be kissed so badly in my life. I have never needed him so much and I’m not alone. He is all over me and it’s a matter of minutes before we’re naked and in the bed, facing each other, kissing each other. Touching each other. I can’t explain the depth of what passes between us in the time that follows. There are moments of pure tenderness. His hand on my cheek. My hand on his. His declaration that “No one will take you from me. No one gets between us.” But then there are these intense, fiery waves. He tangles fingers in my hair. He cups my breast and he’s not gentle. I don’t want him to be gentle. I need the roughness. I need the pure escape that is that line between pleasure and pain. I revel in the freedom to be this, that, or anything with this man naked or otherwise.