Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
With the assholes checked out, it still meant they might still be looking for Brooke. Not might, were. They’d known where she lived. It wasn’t hard information to get from her company’s HR department.
It was time to talk to her about next steps to get her out of this mess. I also needed to follow up with the Denver pack alpha and his guy in law enforcement about the dead bodies I’d left at her place. I trusted Rob to get it taken care of, but my mate was involved, and I had to ensure her safety.
I finished with my shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist before walking out into the suite.
Brooke stood at the large floor-to-ceiling window still in the hotel bathrobe, looking out. Fuck, she was pretty. I could see her looking out the window of my cabin and staring at the mountain view instead of the city laid out before us.
I walked up behind her and settled my hands on her hips. I couldn’t resist leaning down and kissing the side of her neck. She had my scent on her, which made my wolf very fucking happy. “Are you okay?”
She turned and gave me a weak smile. “Other than the dead guys at my house and the money laundering rap I’m facing?”
I hated that she was bothered by this. By anything. “Hey. We’re going to straighten all that shit out. I promise.” I vowed.
She turned back to the window and looked out. “I can’t believe this view. It’s so beautiful.” It seemed she either didn’t believe me or didn’t want to talk about it, so she changed the subject.
I didn’t think the view was amazing. I thought it was stifling. Instead of saying that, I only made a noncommittal sound which sounded awfully like a growl.
“You see those lofts across the street?” she asked, lifting her hand.
I followed her pointing finger. There was a building below us with rooftop gardens and balconies. “Yeah.”
“If I could pick any place in Denver to live, that would be my dream home.”
I almost choked on my own spit. That? That was her dream home? A high rise in the middle of downtown Denver?
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
My mate was an urbanite. A city girl. And I was a country boy.
On the phone, she’d said maybe I’d move to Denver, and her dream house wasn’t even a place in the suburbs near open land. It was a highrise in the city.
This…was bad. My mate’s dreams were so different from mine. It wasn’t like we disagreed on whether the orange juice was pulpy or pulp-free or chunky versus smooth peanut butter. This was being with my mate here in Denver and losing my shit or not being with my mate being back on my mountain in Cooper Valley and losing my shit.
There was no winning.
But, hell, what was I going to do? She was my mate. If I couldn't convince her to come with me to Montana, I’d have to stay. There was no other option. I couldn’t survive without my mate. I’d go Moon Mad.
The trouble was, I wasn’t sure I could survive here in Denver with her, either.
That might drive me just as feral or worse than Moon Madness.
I cleared my throat. “What…uh, what about it do you love?”
“I love the city feel. And they’re super luxurious. I toured one once. Not that I can afford it. But my dream would be to have my own loft, not a rented place. Something I could build equity in.”
I leaned down–way down–and set my chin on her shoulder. “Yeah, I get that. My brother used to be a financial guy. Used to work on Wall Street in New York. He’s all about building equity. He made sure I invested every dollar of my military pay the entire eight years I was enlisted. I was able to save up a decent nest egg, and with his consistent help, it’s continued to grow.”
“That’s what I want although I don’t have an investment-savvy brother.” She turned to face me, her hands coasting over my abs, exploring my skin. I wanted to devour her. Throw her on the bed and eat her pussy until she screamed again. But I also wanted to listen.
I needed to get to know my mate, so I could understand what made her tick. How I could satisfy her beyond orgasms. How I could convince her to let me stay with her. How she could be mine. Or how I could be hers.
“My dad left us when I was a baby. I don’t remember him. Growing up, my mom always looked to a man for financial stability, and it backfired every time. I gave up counting the number of times she told me she’d found The One.” Shadows moved across her face, and I wanted to chase them away. “She never worked. She had this idea that a man was supposed to take care of her–of us–so she was always looking for the next meal ticket. She made some really awful choices.”