Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
The Ken look-alike grinned. “Awesome. I love a good story.”
Then he was gone.
Denver sat back down and looked at my plate. “Are you going to finish that?”
I narrowed my eyes and took a bite.
He held up his hands. “Just askin’. Damn.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
I’m actually a very nice person once you feed me.
—Holly to Denver
HOLLY
The check came in the mail a few weeks later.
Though I was sure that was partly due to the fact that Hollywood had raked her over the coals for her actions.
No one liked shitty Hollywood starlets.
My mother was not exempt from this.
I deposited it all into my bank account, then paid off the rest of my student loans, and bought myself a new truck with Denver’s help.
In the weeks following my mother’s abrupt departure from my life, and Juliana’s abrupt departure from her girls’, I’d been happy.
Deliriously happy.
I felt like I was living someone else’s life.
I had a job that I loved.
A man who treated me like his whole world.
Three girls who thought I hung the moon.
And my heart horse back.
Today was my first day off in weeks, and Denver was on a poker run with his club brothers.
I was lying by the river, reading a book, and watching Constance Pratt, the wildlife preserve manager, taking photos of Joe.
Deedee was at a friend’s house. Catalina was at a school FFA event.
And Jetty was taking over ranch duties while everyone was otherwise occupied.
When Joe finished, she offered to walk Constance back to her car.
I lay on my blanket and continued to read, snacking periodically on carrot sticks and ranch until the daylight started to give way to dark.
Headlights rode up just as I started to fold up my blanket.
“Care for a ride?” Margery asked saucily.
I grinned and hopped inside. “Thanks! That would’ve been a long walk in the dark. I was lost in my book.”
“As you should be when you’re reading,” she said as she drove, not to her house, but to the big house where her son, Sawyer, lived. “We’re all having dinner here today. Denver’s bringing whoever doesn’t have a girl at home. Sorcha cooked for everyone.”
“Sounds perfect,” I breathed.
And it was.
Everything was absolutely as it should be.
Denver rode up on his bike as we were pulling in, parked, and pulled me out of the golf cart upon seeing me.
As he kissed me soundly, several other bikes pulled in, and wolf whistles were heard.
“Get a room, child,” Margery ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I pushed away from Denver with a laugh.
He pulled me into his arms just as his phone rang.
He pulled it out of his pocket and turned it onto speaker so I could hear.
“Hey, you got something yet?” Denver asked.
“Wish I had better news,” he admitted. “You know a woman named Constance?”
I froze.
“I do,” I breathed. “She’s the wildlife rehab lady in the area. And the woman that took Joe’s senior portraits. What’s going on?”
“The man that you saw at the dog fighting ring. That man, Errol Fuller, followed that woman here from Tuscaloosa. At least, Errol’s used credit cards that leads here. He checked in at the hotel in town. Bought several things at local businesses. According to Apollo, he hasn’t been spotted in town yet. But it’s not surprising because he’s ex-CIA like me. He’d know how to hide.”
“Fuck,” I growled. “Guess that means that we won’t be seeing the last of him.”
Silas groaned. “Sadly, probably not.”
“You got anything else on him?” Denver asked.
“Not a damn thing,” he answered. “He’s good. There’s a reason he was in the CIA. I knew of him, had seen him around a bit. But when I was there, he was scarce, which only seems suspicious now that I’m looking for him.”
Denver grumbled darkly under his breath. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”
Silas scoffed. “No, it’s not. If I get more, I’ll keep you updated.”
He hung up before Denver could reply.
“You think we need to worry about him?” I asked.
Denver looked contemplative for a long moment before he said, “Not yet. But I don’t like that he’s here. It screams trouble.”
I agreed.
Later that night, as I lay in bed with Denver wrapped around me like a second skin, I asked him, “You’re okay with not having any more kids, aren’t you?”
He paused in his stroking of my backside. “More than. You’re okay with that?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I like yours.”
He chuckled. “That’s good. Because they’re not going anywhere.”
I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest. “And about to add a grandbaby to the mix.”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“That baby will have you wrapped around their finger.”
He didn’t deny it.
I was almost asleep when he said, “How do you feel about marriage?”
“I’m not in a rush,” I admitted. “But maybe someday.”
He squeezed me tight. “Okay, maybe someday.”
EPILOGUE
I have a name, asshole.
—Jessie’s Girl
DENVER
Ten years later
“Grams!”
I smiled at my youngest grandchild and said, “Yeah, that’s your grams.”