Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“We both will,” Joseph promised, grasping her other hand in his.
He passed me her laptop bag, and I slung it over my shoulder, not giving a fuck that the white leather was embossed with shiny gold flowers that were decidedly feminine. I loved buying pretty things for Ashlyn, and I was proud to bear the weight of her books to spare her from the strain.
I’d been so captivated by her delectable blush and shy smile that I’d completely forgotten about her stalker for a few perfect, sweet minutes. But as soon as we walked within peripheral sight of the corner where the man had settled in with a latte and a book, his keen attention scraped over my skin. The raw sensation on my nerve endings snapped me back to acute awareness of the threat he posed.
Joseph didn’t seem to notice. He was totally lost in his obsession with Ashlyn, and he’d always been a better man than me. His good heart had allowed him to easily adapt to our new life, as though he’d always belonged here. I was a suspicious, mean bastard, and I’d never fully lose the darkness embedded in my soul.
It was better this way, really. Joseph could remain with Ashlyn, keeping her content while I shielded them both from the harsher realities of the world. Those harsh realities had been horrible enough to make Joseph abandon me once, when he’d fled to Cambridge in the first place and met Ashlyn in her safe little bubble. I wouldn’t risk losing him again by making him aware that we might not be free of our violent lives, after all.
I wouldn’t lose either of them. I would keep and protect my family, no matter what it took.
I sucked in a breath and struggled to ease the tension from my jaw. I had to separate myself from Joseph and Ashlyn, so I could fall back and question her stalker without them noticing. The man might have nothing to do with our mafia past. He might simply be a creep who’d fixated on my beautiful girl. She practically sparkled even on the gloomiest days, and it was possible that the guy might just be a student who’d made the very dangerous mistake of obsessing over the woman I loved.
One way or another, I’d find out the truth. How much I’d make him suffer depended on how quickly he loosened his tongue. If he was a student, I would have to restrain myself to mere intimidation. No matter how fiercely my most savage instincts were riding me, I wouldn’t risk our normal lives here by earning assault charges.
But if he was somehow associated with the mafia, I could unleash my more brutal impulses. If he was affiliated with my old criminal lifestyle, he wouldn’t risk going to the police to press charges against me.
I could draw blood. I could make him scream.
No one threatens what’s mine.
Ashlyn’s shiver when we stepped out into the crisp breeze snagged my attention, the small sign of her discomfort pulling me back from the edge. She tucked herself close to my side and wrapped her pale pink pea coat more tightly around herself. I placed my hand on her lower back and gently guided her closer to Joseph’s warmth. Even as he automatically wrapped his arm around her, he shot a questioning glance at me. Usually, I was the one to keep her warm. Joseph would gladly take on the responsibility, but he respected the nature of my needs when it came to caring for our girl. He immediately noted my odd behavior.
I shrugged her laptop bag off my shoulder and passed it to him. Again, he accepted the task of carrying it—of caring for Ashlyn—automatically, but his lips turned down in a slight frown.
“I meant to get something sweet for Ashlyn,” I offered in explanation, jerking my thumb to indicate the street behind us. “I just need to go a couple blocks back. You two head to the bus stop. I’ll catch up with you.”
“You don’t have to get me anything,” she insisted breathily, obviously still hot and bothered from our conversation in the café. “I’m ready to go home.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want a Belgian waffle?” I drawled. “Maybe you don’t deserve a reward, after how you teased us.”
“No!” she insisted quickly. “No, I’d love one. Please?”
I made the mistake of glancing down into her gorgeous eyes, and I was instantly entranced by the glittering sapphire hue I loved so much. I reached out and caressed her cheek, testing the warmth of her blush.
“Anything for you, babygirl,” I promised. “You want the strawberry glamour waffle, right?”
“Yes, please.” She beamed at me and bounced up onto her tiptoes. Without thinking, I bent down to meet her lips in a doting kiss. “Thank you, Daddy,” she murmured against my mouth as I pulled away.