Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I can’t believe I’m going to bat for a man I don’t know—one I suspected yesterday was the perpetrator. Have I completely lost it?
“Thank you,” Dahlia mouths to me.
Or did I just jump without a parachute?
I look at the sky, shaking my head. Fuck you, Lincoln.
“All right,” Ford says. “Let me find out who else has access to Dallo’s Wi-Fi and might want Dahlia dead.”
“Ouch,” she says, making a face. “That was harsh.”
“Thanks, Ford,” I say, winking at my girl. “I owe you one.”
He laughs. “Troy, I owe you so many that we’ll never get even.”
“Let me know if you have any updates,” I say.
“You got it. Talk to you soon.”
“Thanks, Ford,” Dahlia says.
“Stay safe. We’ll see you back here before you know it.”
“Later.” I end the call.
Dahlia heaves a breath as I slide my phone back into my pocket. “I feel so bad about Burt.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ll make it up to him when we return to town.”
“We?”
“Hey, he just fought on behalf of my lady. I’m indebted to him.”
She grins. “I’m your lady, huh?”
“Is that okay?”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as it means you’re mine.”
I pull her to me and kiss the tip of her nose. Surely, she knows I’m hers—even if she doesn’t want me.
Nothing has ever made sense before. I’ve never met another person that I felt like truly gave a single shit about me. No one wanted to listen to anything I had to say. Most people never really see you, and if they do, it’s to see what you have of value they can take away.
Not Dahlia.
She asks for nothing but honesty. She goes out of her way to make me smile. I’ve given her a hard time for two years, and the woman still shows up for me.
She gets angry when she thinks I’m being treated unfairly.
She trusts me to keep her safe.
She gives me space to tell her my secrets and holds me when I fucking cry without judgment.
Dahlia gives me her body, her heart—her laughter and her smiles.
I don’t have as much to give her, and what I do is broken and rusty. But it’s hers if she wants it.
And I hope to hell she does.
Because for the first time in my thirty-seven years on this planet, my future means more than my past.
I didn’t think that was possible.
But I also didn’t think it was possible to fall in love, and I’ve done that.
Chapter Seventeen
Dahlia
I wipe the counters and toss the sponge in the sink.
Dinner was simple, yet delicious. We stopped at the village's small grocery store before returning earlier this afternoon. Troy grilled burgers while I threw some fries into the air fryer. We had a glass of wine and sat outside on the patio, talking and laughing.
It was anything but exciting. It was a run-of-the-mill, everyday experience—and it was so perfect that I’m not sure any day will ever top it. Just as I imagined, the more time we spend together, the more he’s showing his true character. Even though he’ll probably never use an emoji in a text message, and I’ll always want to throttle him at least once a day, he’s so worth it. I’ve seen more hints of his dry humor, thoughtfulness, and the sweet side of his personality that he keeps hidden.
I like the man. I like him a whole lot.
The weather was beautiful after the storms. Troy was the most carefree that I’ve ever seen him. And, despite my concern for Burt and curiosity over the email’s source, I was content.
I haven’t been content in years.
Troy wanted to grab a shower after dinner, and I was happy to spend a bit of time alone. It gave me a few minutes to gather my thoughts and process Ford’s news from earlier in the day. My heart warms when I remember Troy having my back and encouraging our boss to look beyond my dad.
He didn’t have to do that. And it means so much that he did.
I refill our wineglasses, then stop in our bedroom and quickly rinse off. Then I set off to look for my man. I find him on the balcony, lost in thought.
“Hey,” I say, as the breeze ruffles the edge of my pink silk robe. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“Thinking that the only thing better than being out here alone is if I was out here with you.”
I smile, setting our glasses on the small table between the two chairs.
The ocean laps against the beach on the other side of the gate below. The moon hangs high in the sky, the light twinkling off the water. A million stars dot the night and glitter overhead.
“You, Mr. Castelli, are gorgeous,” I say, feathering his short hair with my fingers. He smiles, his perfect white teeth set off by his tanned skin. “I like many things about you, but right now, it’s all superficial.”