Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Dylan turns to me. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because even though some of my actions have been lethal and what some would consider moral sins, I’m still human, and I live with every decision I make. I carry that around with me. Which is why, when I have to make a decision that I believe only God should have the right to make, it’s not taken lightly. I wanted you to know that because I need you to acknowledge that I’m not like Walker in any way. He tried to kill you to save his own ass over what looks like a drug deal gone wrong. The only person he’s protecting is himself.”
Dylan leans in and presses his mouth to mine. His tongue brushes over my lips, but then it’s gone, and so is his mouth. “I know that. Deep down, I think I’ve always known it. You’re a good man, Travis West. Your lack of shining halo doesn’t change that fact.”
“Good.” I stand and pull on my underwear, throw Dylan his, and then clean up the discarded condom before I come back and sit next to him. “In that case, if I were Walker and had his resources, I wouldn’t have sent wannabe assassins after you. I would’ve pinned the murder of that kid on you, turned you into one of the most wanted men in California, and let the arrest warrant and statewide manhunt deal with you.”
“Damn. It’s scary how quickly you came up with that.”
“Scary or impressive?”
“No, no. Definitely the first one.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been thinking it for days. I’d been waiting for a news alert until those goons turned up at the ranch. The way he went was … an interesting choice.”
“How so?”
“Well, like I said, Walker has endless resources being a DEA agent, let alone the one in charge, and he chose not to use any official channels.”
Dylan isn’t connecting the dots. His brow furrows.
“Meaning,” I continue, “he has to be in so deep in whatever his deal is that he doesn’t have another out. Or he feels he doesn’t have another out. And one thing I’ve witnessed time and time again over the years is when a man is trapped, that’s when fatal mistakes are made. We have to find his mistake or wait for him to trip up.”
“How long will that take?”
I want to reassure him and say no time at all! But the words won’t go past my lips. So I answer honestly. “I don’t know.”
Dylan’s eyes flutter closed, the morning sun shining through the windows and lighting up his flawless bronze skin. “I’m exhausted.”
“Let’s get a few hours’ sleep, and then I’ll check in with the guys.”
Hopefully, they’ll have something for me I can use. I pride myself on getting shit done and in a timely manner.
I was the one Dylan thought of in a time of need. I’m the one he turned to. It gives me hope that if I do succeed in getting him off Walker’s hit list, things won’t go back to the way they were before.
Not that I don’t enjoy our back-and-forth. Or his reluctant acceptance of my help. But now that we’re actually sleeping together, it’s a line I promised myself I wouldn’t cross with him again unless I was ready for something real.
He says this is nothing, that I’m just a distraction, whatever, but I’m holding on to that little bit of hope that this changes something. That maybe our relationship is evolving into something else.
I’m not sure what, but I’d like at least the sex to continue.
I also wouldn’t mind continuing to keep an eye over him either. Dylan being vulnerable feeds every natural instinct I have to protect him. And I like it.
“Come on. We’ve had a busy couple of days.”
Dylan laughs and stretches. “You say that like being shot at—repeatedly—is a mild work inconvenience instead of what it is: attempted murder.”
“You’ll be surprised how much I’m actually shot at.”
“I dunno about that. I’ve seen you when you’re being at peak cockiness. I’m surprised you’re not shot at every day.”
“I’m eternally grateful that having a price on your head hasn’t killed your sense of humor. Come on.” I stand from the couch and pull him with me, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.
“You say that like I’m actually joking.”
I playfully slap his ass. “Get this sexy thing to bed before you make me growly.”
“And you say that like it’s a deterrent.”
Fuck, I love this side of Dylan.
But as I lead him to the guest room I usually stay in when I’m at Domino’s and we lie beside each other, it’s like that playful side dies.
He becomes stiff—and not the fun part of him. It’s as if his entire body is coiled tight. I understand because it’s been a rough couple of days. I wish I could take him away from it all for longer than a couple of minutes at a time.