Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Is there some kind of magnetic force pulling us together? She’s here with two of the women from the bar the other night. The fourth one is in the hospital.
A glass of wine sits at her place. That means she’s probably not planning to come to the hospital to meet me tonight.
Fuck.
She’s right, of course. She has a huge conflict of interest, being my parole officer and all. I need to get that changed.
Not that I want a relationship, but she’s a tight little fuck, and I do want more of that.
I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind since I first laid eyes on her at the bar.
Such a pure and unassuming beauty. She far outshines the other two at the table, with their fashionista sense and flawless makeup. Vannah doesn’t need makeup with that milk and honey complexion of hers, that spray of freckles over her pert little nose.
Fuck, I’m getting a boner.
I grab the two bags, deliver them to my new car that’s parked in the one takeout spot in front of the restaurant, and return to grab the other two.
I glance toward Savannah’s table again. One of her friends has left, and it’s just Vannah and the dark-haired one.
I bypass the two bags still sitting on the hostess’s counter and head toward the table.
“Savannah,” I say.
She looks up, her eyelashes fluttering. “Hi there. What are you doing here?”
The other one flashes a smile and holds out her hand. “I’m Gert.”
I take her hand, shake it firmly. “Falcon Bellamy.”
“Right,” Gert says. “From the bar. Sav was talking to you.”
Sav? Cute, but I prefer Vannah. “Right.” I turn back to Savannah. “I’m picking up takeout.”
They both furrow their brows at me.
“You asked what I was doing here,” I say to Savannah.
“Oh.” She blushes. “Right. I did. We’re having dinner.”
“So I can see.” I nod. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Would you like to join us?” the one called Gert asks.
No, but I’d love to replace you.
Can’t say that, though. The family’s waiting for the takeout. They’re damned sick of hospital food, and so am I. It’s only slightly better than prison food.
“Thank you, but I can’t. I have to get the takeout back to my family.”
“Of course.” Gert smiles. “It was nice meeting you.”
I turn to Savannah. “Will I see you later?”
Her already blushing cheeks redden further while Gert’s eyes widen into circles.
“I…uh…”
“We have to go to the hospital,” Gert says. “To see our friend. You might remember her from the bar. She was in a car accident that night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How is she?”
“She’s going to make it,” Gert says. “She got lucky.”
“How is”—Savannah clears her throat— “your sister doing?”
“She got lucky too,” I say.
Savannah smiles, and God, she sparkles. “That’s wonderful news, Falcon.”
“Yeah. I have to go.” I turn.
“Wait.” From Savannah.
I turn around.
“I… I’m really glad to hear about your sister. I know how worried you’ve been.”
I simply nod, head back toward the front, grab my remaining two bags of food, and leave.
21
SAVANNAH
“Easy to see why Giancarlo isn’t turning your crank,” Gert says. “You’re red as a beet.”
I touch my cheeks. God, they’re blazing.
“I’m sure he found it charming.” Gert smiles. “And now I totally see why you’re not interested in our waiter. He makes Giancarlo look like dog food.”
She’s not wrong. Falcon Bellamy is tall, muscular, and ridiculously gorgeous in that dark way of his. In fact, he’s Gert’s type. With their dark hair and eyes, the two of them would make the most gorgeous children ever.
Just the thought of Falcon with Gert makes my insides knot.
He’s not mine. I have no claim on him. He’s my parolee. He’s an ex-con who killed a man.
He’s Savage.
“I’m…not interested,” I lie.
“Then I sure am.” She glances out the window. “Too bad he’s already gone.”
“You’re not interested either,” I say.
“The hell I’m not.”
“He’s my parolee,” I blurt out. “He’s an ex-con.”
There, that should do it.
“Shit!” She widens her eyes. “What did he do?”
I shake my head. Crazy how the Bellamys were able to keep this quiet. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
Gert pulls out her phone. “Fine. I can find out easily enough.” She taps, her fingernails clicking.
I love Gert. I do. She’s my BFF and I’d do anything for her…but at the moment I want to put my fist through her perfectly sculpted jaw.
She drops said perfectly sculped jaw. “Manslaughter?” she whispers.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” I glance down at my spaghetti that’s getting cold.
“He’s innocent, right? Framed?’
“I’m—”
“Not at liberty to say,” she finishes for me.
“I’m not. This is my job, Gert. You know I take my job seriously.”
She puts her phone down. “I’m sorry, Sav. I shouldn’t have pressed you. Such a waste, though. The most perfect man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and he’s a freaking ex-con. A rich ex-con, but still an ex-con.”