Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I’d made my choice. I’d see it through.
Why didn’t I resent Hope? She should be at the top of the list.
But that kiss. That kiss.
I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling until I dropped off from exhaustion. Of all the things on my mind, the only one I kept circling back to was the feel of Hope’s mouth under mine, the heat of her body in my arms.
More of that and I might just make it through the next five years.
Chapter Ten
Griffen
The creak of a door woke me. Due to years of training, I came alert without moving, my eyes sliding open just enough to see the room. The day before came into focus along with my surroundings.
Sawyers Bend. The funeral. Harvey’s office.
Hope.
I lay sprawled on her obscenely comfortable velvet couch wearing only my boxers. Sunlight streamed through the split between the heavy velvet curtains. My hostess—my wife—crept across the living room floor, headed for the kitchen.
Hope was wrapped in a fluffy pink robe. I caught the furtive glance she tossed my way as she picked up her pace and disappeared into the kitchen. Faint rustling sounds. Water running. Was it too much to wish for coffee?
I’d take her out for breakfast later, but I could use some caffeine. I let my mind drift as I waited, looking around Hope’s cluttered apartment as the luscious scent of coffee drifted into the room. Catching the clink of a mug, I rolled to my feet.
Hope turned as I stepped into the kitchen, her empty mug clutched to her chest, eyes wide as they ran from the top of my head down my mostly naked body to my feet. Only mostly naked. I was wearing boxers. I wasn’t trying to give her a heart attack.
I had a feeling mostly naked men were not a fixture in Hope Daniels’ kitchen.
“I thought you were asleep,” she said unnecessarily. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m happy to get up for a cup of that coffee.”
“Oh. Of course.” She poured me a mug, joining me at her small kitchen table.
We sipped in silence, waiting for our brains to wake up. Hope’s eyes flicked over my bare chest, snagging on my shoulder and the still-pink scars there. Her lips parted as if to ask what had happened, then pressed together, her eyes darting away. When they returned, she only studied the scars for a moment before her eyes slipped down, over my pecs to my stomach.
I shouldn’t have liked the faint flush on her cheeks so much. I leaned back, giving her more to look at. Her cheeks flared red and she took a hasty sip of coffee.
Finally, Hope said, “Do you want breakfast? I have some bread. I can make toast.”
“Not much of a breakfast person?”
“Not usually. I snooze my alarm and then have to rush to get into the office,” she said, honestly, a faint flush on her cheeks.
I stopped myself from making a comment about Edgar keeping her on a short leash. I’d deal with him later. Or maybe not, I thought, as Hope’s phone rang. Edgar’s name showed up on the display. She stared at it for a moment before accepting the call. I expected her to get up, to try to have the conversation in private, but she stayed where she was.
“Hello?”
“Get Griffen and be in my office within the hour. We need to talk.” Edgar’s voice was faint, but I could hear him just fine.
Hope swallowed hard. She didn’t protest, just said smoothly, “We’ll see you then.”
Edgar hung up on her. All charm. Vintage Edgar. Hope set the phone down on the table slowly, probably thinking about what to say to me. I made it easy on her.
“Command performance for Edgar?”
“Something like that. He wants us both there—”
“I heard,” I said. “We can get breakfast after. Before we go back to Harvey’s.”
“Of course,” Hope agreed distantly. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was.
I hoped so because if she wasn’t, the conversation we were about to have was going to be sticky.
“A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours, Hope,” I began. “I don’t know if you’ve thought about this, but it’s a serious conflict of interest for you, as my wife, to continue working for Edgar.”
Hope shot me a grateful look. “I know. I know. With Ford in prison and Prentice dead, Edgar and I know more about Sawyer Enterprises than anyone. I don’t know everything, obviously, but you’re going to need help. I’m the best available option, not just because I’m your wife.”
“I know you used to do work for Prentice while also handling most of Edgar’s business, but that isn’t going to fly with me. I don’t trust your uncle. I can guess why he maneuvered Prentice into this marriage thing, but I have no clue why Prentice would have agreed.”