Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Is someone giving you shit? If so, you need to tell me.”
I shook my head, secretly appreciative that he didn’t automatically assume the problem was me but also determined to be my protector—from his men.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Really.” He didn’t look convinced so I changed the subject. Quickly. “I’m happy you think this is working out, Jasper. This job isn’t what I expected, but I’m enjoying myself and happy to be working here. Glad you think I’m doing a good job.”
I hoped I didn’t sound like I was trying too hard, but I was grateful for the compliment.
His full lips twitched but neither a smile nor a laugh appeared.
“You are. Here’s your tips,” he said abruptly and handed me an envelope filled with cash and walked away.
“Thanks,” I mumbled more to myself than to Jasper’s back.
He stopped abruptly and I froze when he turned to face me, hoping that didn’t sound sarcastic. “Mace said you might need a ride home.”
“Oh. Right. No, I’m good. Emmett is going to pick me up.” Did that make it sound like there was something going on between us? God, I hoped not. Did I even care? Yes. Maybe. A little.
“My car wouldn’t start, and he was kind enough to give me a ride.”
Jasper nodded again, but this time it felt more like a nod of approval. “Good. Good. Emmett is a good guy. A nice guy. You can trust him.” His gaze was serious and sober, like it mattered to him.
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He is. I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s quiet but solid. Dependable.”
It meant a lot to me that a man as strong and powerful as Jasper had taken a moment to assure me that I was safe with his people. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.
“Thank you, Jasper.” He seemed like an excellent judge of character and according to Lance, no one could read people like Jasper, which meant if he thought I was safe with Emmett, I was.
“You’re welcome,” he grunted at me and left, this time for real. As if he couldn’t get away from my emotions fast enough.
As big and bad and powerful as Jasper was, he was still a man. Terrified of emotions.
That thought brought a smile to my face and that smile stayed until I was safely back at home, locked safely in my house.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emmett
I should have gone straight home after dropping Vanessa off at the card game, or if I needed to go anywhere else, back to House of Ashby. But my vow to keep her safe had me doing something else, heading back to the big Colonial house she lived in to check on her car. Maybe it was something I could fix easily before her shift was over and save her a trip to the repair shop.
At least that was what I told myself when I pulled up and blocked the driveway and grabbed what I needed for a nighttime inspection. With the lights set up, I stepped in close, expecting a simple fix. The last thing I expected to find was the spark plug wire had been clipped, making no mistake that it had been done on purpose.
“Fuck,” I said to the engine block. My heart raced at the notion that someone had targeted Vanessa, because I doubted it had anything to do with her personal life, that someone connected to Lance had meant to do her harm.
Just the fucking idea that she could’ve been hurt made me sick to my stomach. But it wasn’t so simple, I realized the more I looked at the sharp slice that separated the wire. But before my thoughts got the better of me, I reached for my phone. “Terry. I’m at Vanessa’s place and I need you here. Quick.”
The line was quiet for a long time. I wondered if the fight the other night created a rift that wouldn’t heal. Terry said it was behind us. But was it? I hadn’t forgotten him telling me that the Ashby’s came first. How could he have forgotten that I showed up on his doorstep ready to beat the living daylights out of him? But a moment later, I knew he’d heard the urgency in my tone because he said, “On my way.”
Terry and I used to fix cars for cash back in the day, not too long after the Ashby family became our family. Both of us were too damn proud to take the money and the clothes Sadie offered. We knew enough to be embarrassed by the dirty and ill-fitting clothes our folks let us wear because they felt booze and drugs were more worthy causes for their cash, so Colm taught us how to fix cars to earn some handouts. It was a tool that came in handy in a neighborhood filled with twenty-year-old vehicles, and I’d never forgotten his lessons.