Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’d tell Rose and Rose would tell Beau.” This needs a gentle approach too. “I need her in the best frame of mind. Stable. Positive.”
“Is it an apartment, or is it a glass box?” Danny looks up at me. “It’s very . . . exposed.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I’m just saying, it’s very . . . glassy.”
“Very observant.”
“So why haven’t you told Beau?”
I reclaim my phone. “I’m trying to minimize stress. She’s got a lot on her mind at the moment.”
“You’re worried she’ll say no to moving in together.”
“We live here together.”
“Minimize stress,” Danny muses, his forehead creasing, his brows heavy. What’s taking so much of his brain space at the moment? “It’s her father’s funeral tomorrow.”
“Again, very observant. Brad’s rubbing off on you.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, and I recoil, surprised.
“The funeral?” I say. “It’s kind of necessary. They happen when people die.”
He looks at me tiredly. “No, not the fucking funeral. The apartment, and I’m not speaking completely selfishly. Beau needs Rose as much as Rose needs her. Plus, you’d have to move Fury in there. Is there even enough room for him because it looks kinda small?”
“I hope we get to a point when I don’t need Fury stuck to Beau constantly. We need our own space.”
Danny gets up, appearing agitated, pacing. “Not if you’re fucking dead,” he says gravely, stopping with his circling of the room.
I’m recoiling again. “She needs some normal.”
“This is about as normal as our life gets, mate. Cleaning cash, gunrunning, and fighting off the daredevils who try to move in.”
“I know that.”
“Then why?”
My teeth grit. “I have to give her hope that we can be . . .” I pause, thinking, trying in vain not to get worked up. “I don’t fucking know. Something other than dark. Some normality. Or something close.”
“For you or her?” he fires back.
“Her,” I murmur unconvincingly, shrinking into my chair. “Everything is for her.” I’m not lying. “She wants a baby. She’s said she’ll marry me. Why wouldn’t she want our own place?”
“Are you prepared to give her a baby?”
I scowl. “Anything.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” he muses, looking at me like he knows. He just . . . knows. “She’s with you, James. She accepted when she held Burrows at gunpoint and shot Perry Adams that normal would not feature in her life anymore. She chose you.”
“What if she’s regretting it?”
“That’s bollocks.” He dismisses me easily. “You’ve got to stop thinking you can bring her to heel.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
He smiles, and it’s fond. “I know when to let Rose have her way. As you pointed out, I wasn’t comfortable having those two girls in my house, but Rose needed that. I’m not all too fond of the fact that she cracks me one on the nose every now and then, but she needs that too. Your Beau is like a champion racehorse being forced not to run. It doesn’t work. They’ll always end up bucking. Do you actually want a baby, or do you just want a reason to keep her close?”
“The fuck?” I blurt.
“It’s a serious question.”
“It’s a stupid fucking question.” I push back in my chair, standing abruptly, my fists clenching, and Danny takes a wary step back. I manage amid my instant anger to ask myself why his question has triggered me. It’s easy. Because he’s bang on the money. Our baby was a healing balm on both of our wounds. All of them. And we have a lot of fucking wounds. Mental, emotional, and physical. Why wouldn’t Beau want that again? And me. Not just for all of that, but because she would have no choice but to tame the Lara in her. I’m such a dick. An apartment won’t solve my problems. Marriage might not either. But a little piece of her and a little piece of me in one little person to call ours?
“Calm down,” Danny murmurs, and, weirdly, I do, taking a few deep breaths and lowering back to my chair. But then something else comes to me.
“You should have run it by me before you agreed to let them go shopping,” I snap. “And why the fuck do they need to go shopping for anyway? They can get everything they need online. Beau hates shopping.”
“Because a shopping trip is one tiny bit of normal we can offer.”
He’s right, of course, but I’m obviously not feeling very reasonable today. “You should have fucking asked.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Danny wanders over to the drinks cabinet and takes a couple bottles of water, bringing one to me. “Drink. You look parched.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, swiping the bottle from his hand. Fuck. He doesn’t think our own apartment is a good idea? I’ve been so focused on trying to give Beau what I think will fix us, I’ve forgotten what she might actually want. Problem is, I’m not certain what it is she actually wants. A baby? A badge? Our own place? This house is as fucked up as a house can get. And yet . . . it works. And, really, having so many friends and family close by is a comfort. Support. Respite in a world where there is little relief. “So you’re telling me I might have just wasted five million dollars?”