Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“Now we’re talking.” Reese nodded at me. “One more thing. We want your help with a website.”
I didn’t even hesitate. It would be the perfect distraction to work on at night when I was otherwise watching the news and stalking Colt’s Facebook profile.
Seven
“But it’s a good idea, isn’t it?” I trapped my phone between my cheek and shoulder and picked another bottle of wine. “You won’t have to hire someone new to make up a whole department. I’ll keep you as an account instead.”
Dad hummed in the background, and I moved on to the whites. Trader Joe’s was having a wine sale, and I wasn’t missing it.
“It’s a risk, son. That’s all. Starting your own business—it’s not for everyone.”
“Uh-huh. I’m well aware.” I had been raised by a man who ran a successful business after all. I knew the hours he’d put in to make it. “Is Mom still on her Chilean wine kick?”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Trader Joe’s,” I replied. Meaning, two minutes from my apartment. “It’s half-off on one I know she’s liked.”
“I’m sure she’d like a bottle,” he said. “What sparked this idea that you would start your own marketing firm?”
“A friend—I’m helping him and his brother with a project.” And I was loving it. “When he first asked me a few weeks ago, it was only a website. Now I’m helping them with all kinds of things, and it’s… I can’t describe it. It’s what I want to do.”
We were putting our stamp on the land they’d bought. When the house was finally ready, it was going to be unforgettable. We had a name and a logo, and I was working on the concept whenever I had time.
“Can I call you back in five?” I asked. “I can’t hold the phone, and don’t make me choose between you and wine.”
Dad laughed gruffly and ended the call.
With the phone back in my pocket, I could pick out two more bottles, and then I made my way to the registers. I should’ve taken a cart. Though, there was tomorrow too. The sale didn’t end until Saturday.
I’d just left the store with six bottles of wine when Dad called again.
“I said I’d call you back, Dad,” I chuckled.
There was a pause, and then…and then it wasn’t my father at all. “I usually prefer Daddy, but Dad is an improvement, I guess.”
Colt’s voice made me stop dead in my tracks, and my heart jumped up into my throat.
Holy fuck.
“Colt,” I breathed. “I…I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice. How are you? What time is it over there? Are you okay?” Shut up! Remember what you read. Christ. I was an asshole. I shook my head at myself and picked up the pace again. “I’m sorry. The website told me not to overwhelm you. You talk. I’ll be home in one minute, but you talk.”
He laughed softly, sounding tired but in good spirits. “You’re sweet. The base is pretty dead. I couldn’t sleep, and no one’s hogging the phones, so I thought I’d call.”
I had to stop myself from asking why he couldn’t sleep. There’d been an escalation in some conflict zones, but I didn’t know exactly where he was.
“You do tend to have your best ideas at night,” I agreed.
That earned me another little laugh, and it felt so good to hear. It was the best thing I’d heard in…well, over three months.
There was a beat of silence, long enough for me to enter my building and climb two flights of stairs, and then I had to say something.
“I think about you a lot,” I admitted.
“Yeah?” There was no hint of arrogance, no smugness in his tone.
It worried me.
“Yeah.” I reached the third floor and set down my bags to dig out my keys. “I bet I’ve visited your Facebook more than you have.”
“Heh. Well, good. I like being memorable.”
“That would be an understatement.” As soon as I was in my apartment, I abandoned the wine on the hallway floor and aimed for the couch. I wanted to sit down and be able to give him my full attention. “What do you need, Colt? You sound a little…lost.”
He hummed. “I had my worst training today. I fuckin’ sucked. I missed a bogey—completely missed it. I didn’t see it.”
I squinted at nothing and rubbed my forehead. I didn’t know what a bogey was, but I’d heard it in movies.
“And a bogey is, uh…”
Colt chuckled lazily. “When we see something on the radar that we can’t identify—or we get a visual on.” Then he quieted down for a brief moment, and when he spoke again, the humor was gone. “I can’t afford to miss those things. I’m better than that. And out here…? Fuckin’ hell.” He blew out a heavy breath. “Lucas, I have a really selfish favor to ask of you.”