Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
If we’re lucky, his claims will be summarily dismissed by the police and the press. If we’re very lucky, he might face charges of his own.
I’m not going to pretend the thought of Kai in deep shit with the law doesn’t bring me joy. Couldn’t if I tried.
And I’m not gonna.
I hurry back to the bar, grinning ear to ear as I slip inside. The phone box is open and several more cells are missing, assuring me it’s fine for me to take mine to our table.
The second Charlotte sees my face, she knows. “Oh my God,” she says, her lips curving into a smile. “It’s over? You’re back on the team?”
“I’m back, baby,” I confirm, high-fiving the hand Blue lifts to mine.
“What happened?” Charlotte asks, lifting her hand for her own high-five, which I happily deliver.
“Yeah, what happened?” Bea seconds. She joined our group while I was outside, and is currently perched on a stool beside the booth—celebratory salted margarita in hand.
She sets it down on the table as I say, “This happened,” and hand her my phone.
She pops to her feet as she takes it, her eyes going wide. “What is it?” She glances quickly over her shoulder at the industry people still milling and chatting, before turning back to us. “Am I going to cry? Or cuss at the screen? Because I really don’t want to cry or cuss in present company.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s good news. Intense, but good. And I already turned the volume down so it shouldn’t carry.”
I watch Bea’s face as she taps the screen, soaking in every word playing softly from my phone.
Her eyes go wide. Her free hand flies to her mouth.
And then tears well in her eyes, making me feel like absolute shit.
“Sorry,” I say when she’s done, angling to put myself between her and the rest of the bar, offering what shelter I can. “Shit, Bea, I’m so sorry, I should have known you’d be upset. I can—”
“No, it’s okay,” she cuts in, smiling at me through her tears. “I’m not upset. I’m just…” She sniffs, taking a beat to regain control. Her voice is steadier as she adds, “I’m touched. I can’t believe she did this for me. It’s so badass. So brave.”
“That’s what I thought,” I agree.
“Warrior-level shit,” Charlotte thirds, while Blue nods sagely.
“Totally,” Bea whispers, something shifting in her expression. “Which gives me an idea. Be right back.” She wanders away with my phone, tapping quickly at the screen.
“Hopefully, she remembers she’s logged into my account not hers,” I say as Charlotte stands beside me, watching Bea pace beside the stage.
“Doubt it,” Charlotte says, affectionately.
“I’ll remind her,” Blue says, starting across the bar.
When we’re alone, I turn to Charlotte, pulling her into my arms for a long hug. “Damn, that feels even better than usual.” I park my hands just above her ass, fighting to keep my tone casual as I add, “Probably because I just remembered that I never cancelled our Paris flights tonight.”
Charlotte’s grin is sudden, dazzling, and as excited as I hoped it would be. “What! No way. You didn’t?”
I smile. “No, I didn’t. I kept them and our hotel reservation. Just in case. And since Mom and Dad get in early tomorrow, and Beatrice is doing so much better… And she told me she’d kick me in the nuts if I didn’t take you to Paris…”
“You really are a genius, Baylor Nix,” Charlotte whispers, grabbing the lapels of my suit coat in both hands. “A total genius, and I love you.”
She pulls me in for a kiss that tastes like victory, bourbon, and forever.
Yeah, that’s definitely a forever taste, I decide three days later, as we’re wandering through a Paris flea market as classy and timeless as my girl.
It’s too early to buy the thing I buy, way too early.
But it’s too perfect to pass up.
So, I buy it while Char’s busy choosing the perfect vintage ads from the 1920s to frame for the downstairs bathroom and tuck it into my pocket, already knowing I’m not going to regret it.
This love might be new, but it’s real.
The realest thing I’ve ever known.
Twenty-Four
CHARLOTTE
April in New Orleans is the most glorious time of year.
Warm, but not too warm. A hint of humidity here and there, but not enough to threaten my blowout, and rarely a cloud in sight.
And the smell?
Heavenly—sweet olive like musky honey on the breeze, jasmine exploding on every fence rail, and a hint of citrus from the mock orange trees dancing in with a top note that makes your mouth water for a taste of something tangy.
Like a mojito, perhaps…
I bought fresh limes at the store this morning, just in case Nix is up for a cocktail in the garden before we meet up with friends.