Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“What’s up?” I asked as he got closer.
“Know you’re not happy about keepin’ Harper in the dark,” he said when he reached me. “As a father, that’s reassurin’.”
I nodded.
“But as a member of this club, I want to remind you that we don’t discuss club business with anyone.”
“Understood.”
“Harper’s been livin’ out of state for years. She’s so clean she squeaks,” he said. “Occam’s razor, Bas. The simplest answer is usually the right one. Someone’s goin’ after the club, I don’t want my daughter worryin’, and I don’t want her caught up in it.”
“I hear you.”
“That said,” he sighed. “She’s goin’ to your place tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“You keep an eye on things.”
“Always.” I paused.
“Spit it out,” he ordered.
“I’ve got every man in the club tellin’ me the very creative ways they’d dismember my body, but you and Gray haven’t said a word about me seein’ Harper.”
“Anticipation,” he said with a sly grin. “The longer you wait for it, the scarier it gets.”
I huffed.
“Harper’s a grown woman,” Leo continued, his voice growing serious. “My wife says she’s capable of makin’ her own decisions no matter how much I hate it. And I watched you grow up, kid. You’ve never been out sowin’ your oats like my nephews, leaving destruction in your wake.”
“Try not to.”
“I’ll tell you what Casper told me when I started seein’ Lily,” Leo continued. “When you love someone—and I’m not sayin’ you’re there yet, so don’t go shittin’ your pants—but when you love someone, you do what’s best for them. You put them first.”
I nodded.
“That’s what I expect from you whether you love her or not,” he said. He turned and walked away but called out over his shoulder. “And you’re well aware that I know places they’d never find your body.”
And there it was.
Chapter 8
Harper
“I’ll bring your car back in the morning,” I promised, slinging my overnight bag onto my shoulder. “Or tonight…but probably tomorrow.”
“Two nights in a row,” my mom mused, tapping the end of her pen against the counter.
“He’s making me dinner,” I replied with a little shimmy. “Thanks for letting me borrow the car.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Make good choices,” my mom called out as I left the house.
“Never! And you can’t make me!” I called back, closing the door behind me.
It was a little embarrassing how excited I was to see Bas. I’d spent the day looking at jobs online and making sure my résumé was up to date, and I was glad to finally leave it all behind. Only a few years before, I’d been fielding so many job offers that I’d had to make pro/con lists, and now I was checking my email every couple of hours to see if anyone had reached out.
So far, it had been crickets.
I told myself to be patient, that the job offers would come, but I was a little worried that my old boss had already made the rounds telling everyone that I’d walked out. Everyone knew everyone, the corporate world was a small one, and there was a very good chance that I was being talked about. I just hoped someone heard what happened and thought I was exactly the type of honest employee they wanted.
It would happen.
But for now, my hair was done, I was wearing a dress that made my boobs look incredible, I’d slathered my body in scented lotion, and I was on my way to see a man that made my toes curl with just the sound of his voice.
I wondered what he was going to make me for dinner.
“What the fuck?” I yelped, skidding onto the gravel at the side of the road as a lifted truck swerved completely into my lane.
The traction control in my mom’s car kicked in with a loud beeping as I struggled to stay in control, and by the time I straightened out on the asphalt again, the truck had disappeared behind me. He hadn’t even slowed down to make sure I hadn’t wrecked.
Fucking asshole.
I spent the rest of the drive with my heart pounding and both hands wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were white. The drive between my parents’ place and Bas’s apartment was less than fifteen minutes, and I was still a little shaky as I pulled into his parking space and cut the engine.
At this rate I should probably just stop driving altogether.
Grabbing my bag off the seat next to me, I climbed out of the car to find Bas standing in his open doorway.
His hair was wet, his feet were bare, and he was wearing a pair of jeans that were practically indecent if you knew what was under them.
“Hey,” I called out as I walked toward him. “I hate to be presumptuous, but I brought a toothbrush this time.”
He smiled, and my stomach did a little flip.
Backing out of the doorway, he took my bag and let me into the house.