Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
When she comes back, I take the baggie from her and carefully place the smoke detector inside as she takes a huge bite off her spoon.
“Are you having ice cream for dinner?” I ask, wanting to take her mind off the camera and everything else.
“Yes, and don’t judge me,” she mutters, and I move to stand behind her, then take hold of her wrist so I can lift the spoon to my mouth and take a bite.
“Much better than whatever I was going to attempt to make you for dinner tonight.” I kiss the side of her head, and she looks over at me.
“You were going to cook dinner tonight?”
“I’m not sure if reheating leftovers is considered cooking, but that was my plan,” I tell her, and she laughs, the sound causing my muscles that I didn’t even know were tight to relax.
“Did you get a chance to go see your dad today?” she asks after a couple of minutes, and I lean back against the counter next to her. Since the gala almost two weeks ago, I’ve only seen my dad a handful of times. I haven’t wanted to be at the house when my mother is there, not when I know I won’t be able to keep my cool around her after the way she and my sister treated May.
“I messaged Marla, and she let me know my mom was at the house.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I’ll see him this weekend while she’s in New York.”
“You can’t let what happened at the gala prevent you from going to see your dad.”
“Did you have a chance to look over the fencing options for your yard that I sent?” I change the subject, and she sighs.
“I did. I liked the black wrought iron with the scalloped top.”
“Good, I’ll call tomorrow and get the install scheduled. With it being winter, it shouldn’t take long for them to start the job.”
“Are you going to tell me how much it’s going to cost?”
“Nope,” I answer, and she glares at me. “Are you going to accept the ten grand I’ve been trying to give you?”
“Nope,” she mimics, and I shake my head while grinning at her, then watch her look around before she whispers, “Do you think there are more cameras?”
“I don’t know, baby,” I tell her softly, and she ducks her head.
“Can I see the video?”
I want to say no, want to protect her as much as I can, but I know that me not showing her the video isn’t going to do that. I grab my phone, then load up the video and press Play. As she watches it, I watch pink stain her neck and cheeks, the only reaction she gives to seeing us in such an intimate moment. “Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know.” I shut off my phone.
“I just….” She shakes her head, cutting herself off. “It’s weird you can’t see anything.” Her brows drag together. “I mean, you can. You know what we’re doing, but you can’t really see anything.”
“You’re right,” I agree, because you can’t see anything. Her breasts are pressed against my chest, and you can’t really even see her face at all. “That’s because I’m the target. Whoever is doing this doesn’t want to hurt you. They want to hurt me.”
“How would this hurt you?”
“If I was still playing for the Sparrows and this went public, I might’ve gotten suspended, but now it might prevent me from getting a job at a school, coaching or working with kids.”
“Are you…? I mean, is that something you want to do?”
“Until you, soccer was the first thing I thought about when I woke up in the morning and the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep each night. It doesn’t feel like the most important thing in my life anymore, but it’s still in my blood.” I watch her lips part and her face get soft. “So I guess the answer is yes. One day, I’d like to coach or work with kids.”
“I—” Her words are cut off when the doorbell rings, and I silently curse whoever is here, because I really fucking wish I knew what she was about to say. “That’s probably my uncle.” She ducks her head and starts for the hall.
Before she can get past me, I grab her wrist to stop her. “I’ll get it.”
“You’re the one who’s in danger,” she grumbles, walking with me, then she huffs when I place her behind me so I can open the door.
“I guess you’re the boyfriend,” a man around the age of her father, who—like her dad—is still good-looking and fit, greets, and I lift my chin. I look behind him to a guy wearing glasses, with longish hair that is tied back away from his scruffy face and he has a smile on his lips.