Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“You mean Reid was testing me to find out how I’d handle this? He’s such an ass.”
Royce chuckles. “Well perhaps, but he predicted you’d want to go to the police. I’m a former FBI agent and our team is a mix of law enforcement and special ops military. We’re connected. We can deal with this so you don’t have to. I can even fire them.”
“Oh no. I want that pleasure. I just wish I would have found out in time to do it at the office today in person, but my question is this: Should I fire them? Or should I talk to the police first? Do we have enough to ensure they go down?”
“We have plenty to take them down. Let’s just get rid of them.”
“Okay.” I’m silent for a few beats. “You investigated me.”
“Yes. Something you want to know?”
“I know everything about me, so that’s not necessary. Did you investigate my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he take those deals?”
He’s silent for a long moment. “You don’t think it was bad judgment?”
“He’s never had that kind of bad judgment. A few bad calls, yes, but this wasn’t that. Why?”
“Even if I had an answer,” he says, “and I don’t, it would be a conflict of interest for me to tell you. I work for Reid.”
“Can I hire you? I need to know why.” I need to know what’s in Montana that made him rush there the minute he had my money, I think, because this land deal feels off. “He didn’t even stay and fight,” I add.
“If Reid—”
“Never mind. I get it. You work for him. Thank you anyway. I have three men to fire. I’ll text you when it’s done. Goodnight.”
“Carrie.”
“Yes?”
“Talk to Reid.”
“Talking is what we don’t do together.”
“I’ll talk to him. Text me.” He hangs up.
I dial the first of the three thieves, and it’s all quite easy. “You’re fired. You know why.” Those three words work all three times. Lucky threes. I text Royce: It’s done. And with that, I’m a ball of nerves that has me changing into leggings and sneakers for a run, my way of calming my mind. I pop in my headphones, turn on a music mix, and head downstairs. Once I step out into the now inky night, the touristy crowd has thinned out and I make my way to the sidewalk, running along the ocean and all the buildings. I skip my stretches, which will give my mind time to get the best of me.
I take off running, cranking up my music, and still, I’m in my head. I’m back in Reid’s office. I’m reliving every moment with him. I thought—God, what did I think? It was hate sex and nothing more, and yet when it was over, he didn’t want to let me go. I felt it. I didn’t want to let him go. And then he did, and I still don’t know why I want him at all. I think more of myself than to sleep with a man that—
I run into someone and gasp as Reid catches my arms, and he too is in running clothes, sweats, and a T-shirt. “Are you stalking me now?” I demand. “Was investigating and fucking me not enough?”
“No,” he says. “That’s the problem. It’s not.” He’s barely spoken the words and his hand is cupping my head, his mouth closing down on mine, his tongue licking against my tongue and I want to resist. No. I try to resist, but there is something about Reid. Something that calls to me even as he punishes me, tries to control me and generally treats me like shit. I want this man, and I can’t stop the want. I sink into the kiss, and he moans, like he needs this as much as I do, his hand flattening between my shoulder blades, molding my chest to his.
I am lost in this man, how he feels, how he smells, every lick of his tongue and then suddenly, he’s lacing his fingers with my fingers. “Come on,” he says, stroking a hand over my hair and caressing my cheek.
I’m dazed by the gentle touch to the point that when he starts walking I follow, but a blast of ocean air has me blinking into reality, digging my heels in, and tugging against his hand. “Wait,” I say, pulling him around to face me. “Where are we going?”
“My place.”
His place.
Yes.
No.
“No,” I say, rejecting how close I am to letting this man own me in all ways. “No. I’m not going to your place.”
“Then we’ll go to yours.” He starts walking.
“No,” I say, trying to dig in my heels again, but he keeps walking. “No!”
He rotates to face me and before I know his intent, he’s kissing me again, and damn it, I want him to kiss me again. I don’t resist. I melt into him. I kiss him back. And when he pulls back and strokes my hair again, he says, “We need to be alone.”