Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
My gut says her dad wasn’t a criminal at all. But I have no basis for that theory and what’s the point, anyway? This happened years ago. So, I keep my opinion to myself.
The father’s friend, though. Maybe it was grief talking. Or maybe he was the dirty cop, and he pinned his crimes on Emily’s dad. No wonder she thinks her dad killed the guy who cut her.
“He wrote to me a while ago,” she says. “That’s the last time I had a nightmare.”
“Who? Your dad’s partner?”
“No. His killer.”
A lightning bolt of rage splits my vision in half. I take a breath, willing calm into my body. But it’s not easy. My fascination with Emily hovers like a violent cloud, ready to rain terror on anyone who threatens her or Libby’s safety.
Fascination? No. What I feel for Emily is more than interest or affection.
Deeper, in a place I thought I’d buried under concrete, I recognize it’s love.
And that’s the only thing in this world that scares me.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Emily
After baring my soul at the park, I’m worn out. Dex and I hike through a few trails in silence. As if he knows I need distance from the place where I shared the worst parts of my past. But I can’t go home yet. I haven’t decided if it was a relief to share all of that with him or not.
“I think I’m getting a blister,” I say as I finish limping down a steep trail behind him.
He stops and surveys the area. “I don’t think we’re far from the bike. You want me to carry you?”
“What? No.” But after a few more steps, he crouches down in front of me.
“Arms around my neck,” he orders.
“Dex, you can’t possibly carry me that far.”
“Sure I can.” His lips curl into a cocky smirk. “I skipped the gym today. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“What bullshit,” I grumble as I circle my arms around his neck. I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt him somehow but he’s steady as he hooks his arms under my legs and lifts. I squeal and wrap my arms around him tighter.
“That’s my girl. Hang on.”
People we pass on the trails smile at us. One of the park rangers asks if we need assistance but Dex brushes him off.
The last part of the hike includes a set of old, wide stone steps sunk into the side of a steep hill. “You can set me down now. The parking lot’s right on the other side of those trees.”
“I got you,” he insists, his grip remaining strong on my legs.
He takes each step with care, obviously trying not to jostle me too much. And damn, he’s not even out of breath by the time we reach his bike.
“That was an…adventure,” I say, strapping on my helmet.
He curls his arms, flexing for me with a silly grin until I burst out laughing. “Come on. Let’s grab lunch. I know a place.”
About an hour later, we walk into a pub near Johnsonville.
“I’ve passed this place a bunch of times,” I say to Dex. “But I’ve never eaten here.”
“A friend owns and runs the place. So, if the club’s out this way, we try to stop in and throw him some business.”
As we step in the front door, I recognize the friend he’s referring to. Remy came with Dex a few times over the summer to mow my lawn. The first time, I thought I caught him flirting with Libby and read him the riot act. Amazing he came back after that.
“You should’ve told me it was Remy,” I whisper. “I don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”
Dex chuckles. “That’s not true. You’re an attractive, unmarried woman. He’s a fan.”
Unmarried.
I curl my arms around his and press my breasts against him. “Unmarried but not available.”
He leans down and kisses me. “Definitely not.”
“Tongues to yourself!” a guy calls out.
Dex chuckles and pulls away.
Remy grins at us from behind the bar then points to a sign next to a row of liquor bottles. Tongues to yourself is spelled out in tall white letters on a black background. “Number one rule.”
“Since when?” Dex jokes, walking quickly up to the bar and slapping Remy’s outstretched hand. “How’ve you been, brother.”
While they catch up, I glance around at the small, empty restaurant. Now I understand why Dex tries to give him business when he can.
“Sit anywhere you want,” Remy says. “I’ll bring over a menu.”
After we place our orders, Dex slides his hands across the table and covers mine. Warmth from his skin seeps into my chilled bones. Not a chill from the ride—Dex had given me a pair of gloves to wear. This was a deeper cold that sprang from memories, freezing everything in its path.
“You must think I’m a real mess, huh?” I say after I can’t stand another second under his watchful gaze. “I’ve told you about all these shitty guys I’ve dated, my parents…”