Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Boone gives him a look that could peel paint off walls. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”
Dillon sighs, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “I do. I just… It’s been a long damn time since anything felt that right. None of us planned it, but it happened anyway, and it was good.”
“Yeah, it was, but that’s what worries me,” Boone says quietly. “We might’ve taken advantage of that. It’s possible we took it too far, too fast, and I think it might’ve been too much for her.”
A slight smirk curves Dillon’s mouth. “If you ask me, we were just enough for her. I know she went straight up to bed after, but maybe she was just shy when she realized what had just happened. We’ve seen that before. It takes some people a while to ease into accepting that they liked it.”
“She’s not like the others,” Boone snaps. “Maybe she was a little shy. It’s perfectly natural, but there’s something else going on with her.”
Dillon sighs. “I thought she was a little off at first too, but I think you’re reading too much into it now. She’s been fine since she got here.”
Boone arches an eyebrow after swallowing a sip of his beer. “You saw how she flinched when we mentioned the motel that first day, right? That wasn’t just nerves about three random guys arriving at her door. There’s something going on with her. She wasn’t thinking earlier when she gave us the go-ahead. She was already a little dazed after that kiss. We shouldn’t have just jumped in without waiting for her to cool down a little.”
“Agreed, but I don’t think that’s our biggest problem.” I cock a hip against the counter beside him. “She’s running from something. I’d bet my next paycheck on it. This, on top of everything else, might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”
Dillon frowns, the humor finally gone from his face. “Do you think she’s in trouble?”
“I think she’s scared,” Boone replies. “If we’re going to have her here and try to make this work at all, we need to talk to her. Make sure she knows what we’re about. What this is.”
I take a slow drink, weighing the thought. Boone is right. “Tomorrow. Let’s just give her time to breathe tonight, then we can sit down with her. No pressure or assumptions. Just honesty from our side, and hopefully, she’ll let us in a little.”
I nod. Whatever Roxie’s story is, she isn’t just passing through our lives anymore. But after what happened today, it’s entirely possible she might try to run. She wouldn’t get far, but none of us want her to feel like she should be adding us to the list of things she has to run from in the first place.
Dillon looks between us, his expression tightening when he realizes we are stone-cold serious. “So, what are we saying here? We’re going to ask her straight out what’s going on?”
“Not yet,” I say. “She’s wound tight as a spring. If we push her more than we already have, she’ll bolt. We have to play it smart and make her feel safe first.”
Boone’s gaze goes distant, a calculating gleam in his eyes. That’s the ex-fighter in him taking over, always thinking a few moves ahead. “What do we do when she’s ready to talk?”
“We listen,” I answer. “No judgment. No pressure.”
Dillon nods. “What if whoever she’s hiding from shows up?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Then we deal with it.”
Boone’s jaw flexes. He meets my eyes and something solid passes between us, a shared understanding that needs no words. “She’s under our roof now.”
“Yeah,” I agree immediately. “That makes her ours to protect.”
Dillon exhales and tries to lighten the mood, his grin crooked but weary. “I guess that means I should bake more cookies.”
13
DILLON
Three and a half weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since Roxie had crash-landed into our lives and turned everything upside down.
The same three voices used to echo around this house on an endless loop, but it’s different now. It’s warmer. Sometimes louder, too. There’s an energy she carries that is chaotic, sharp, and playful, and it has me hooked.
I lean back in my office chair, spinning it slowly while the screens in front of me flash lines of code. My brain isn’t on the firewall I’m supposed to be building, though. It’s on her.
We haven’t touched her since that afternoon three weeks ago. Not once. Not for lack of wanting.
When he isn’t working, Boone is pretending to stay busy with maintenance projects that don’t need doing. Chance has doubled his gym sessions, which means he practically lives down there now. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, thinking about the way her laugh slides under my skin and the way she bites her lip when she’s concentrating.