This Could Be Us – Skyland Read Online Kennedy Ryan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
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I glance down at the printed stack of evidence I’ve been collecting for months. “I don’t believe he did this alone. Someone smarter helped, but working with someone smart doesn’t make you smart. I’m counting on Edward to have done the stupid thing somewhere along the way. When we find that, we’ll crack this case open.”

“We better,” Brett says, standing and signaling the end of the meeting. “I want him to pay, and I want our money back. I don’t care who we have to squash to make that happen.”

He strides from the room, his assistant, Willa, tripping to keep up with him. I take some time gathering my things—the iPad and the burgeoning file folder—even though my instinct is to rush back to the office and reexamine every piece of evidence immediately. I want to convey a sense of calm despite feeling the same urgency Brett does. Maybe more. The longer this goes on, the worse it will get for Soledad. I don’t even want to analyze why that matters to me so much. I’ve never been swayed by a woman’s looks.

And that’s not it.

You could miss how much more there is to Soledad, but I’ve seen her strength and her fortitude and her humor and sacrificial love for her children. I recognize that because it’s why Tremaine and I rearranged our lives, our dreams, our goals to do whatever was necessary for Aaron and Adam. Beyond her obvious assets, it is the way Soledad engaged with Aaron that most impressed me. He doesn’t try to make it easy for others to connect. It’s not a natural priority for him, so sometimes it takes someone who’s willing to go the extra mile, to extend themselves even though, at first, it doesn’t seem like you’ll get much in the way of a response. When I walked in and saw them cubing together, recognized how much it meant to Aaron even if his expression didn’t give it away, something lodged in my chest that I haven’t been able to pull free since.

“Good work so far on this, Judah,” Delores says, a portfolio tucked beneath her arm. “Keep at it.”

“Thanks.” I stand too. “We’ll keep trying.”

“Despite what my father seems to think,” she laughs, her thick brows crinkling. “That’s all we can do. And I appreciate you looking out for Soledad.”

My head snaps up, a protest already on my lips. “I’m not looking out—”

“I’m not Dick, Judah. I don’t think you have some ulterior motive. She’s not the kind of person who would do this. She’s too honest. Too forthright, almost to a fault.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “You should have heard her criticizing our pans and telling me how to fix them.”

“If I’m wrong about her,” I answer, matching my steps to Delores’s as we approach the conference room exit, “I’ll eat my briefcase.”

“If you’re wrong”—Delores pauses, places her hand on my shoulder, and gives me a more sober look—“my father will eat you alive. He doesn’t abide fools, and he hates being made to look like one. This has become personal for him, and he’ll break Soledad if he has to.”

I stiffen and glance from the hand on my shoulder to her serious expression. “I’m afraid I can’t let him do that.”

A smile inches onto her face and she nods.

“I was hoping that’s what you would say.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

SOLEDAD

Good news,” Brunson says. “You can visit Edward.”

“Oh, great.” I know I don’t sound enthusiastic, and after my conversation with Edward yesterday, I can’t even find the energy to fake it.

“You can go as soon as today if you want.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” Adjusting my earbud so I can hear him better, I plate a waffle and set it in front of Lupe, who is seated at the kitchen counter.

“Um, visiting hours end at three o’clock,” Brunson continues, a note of uncertainty entering his voice.

“Lottie has a gymnastics meet today.” I nod to the pantry. “Inez, grab the syrup. Sorry, Brunson, we’re having breakfast.”

Inez returns with the syrup and hands it to Lottie, who drowns her waffle.

“All right,” I warn Lottie, nodding to her loaded plate. “You’re gonna feel that when you go flipping through the air. Slow down.”

“Well, I know how eager you were to see him,” Brunson ventures. “Sorry it took a few days. I’m sure he’d love to see you tomorrow if you can’t make it today.”

“Of course.” I join the girls at the counter, slice into my own waffle, and pierce a chicken sausage link. “Sounds good.”

“If you change your mind about today, just let me know and I’ll get it set up. Let him know you’re coming.”

“Okay.” I sip my orange juice. “Talk to you soon.”

It’s silent on the other end, and the lawyer’s confusion reaches me over the phone. I went from desperate to see my husband to I’ll see him if I see him.


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