Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“So, Gray,” Jorge says, his words slurring as he leans over and looks at Gray with glassy eyes. “How are you finding this one, huh?” His hands tremble slightly as he points at me. “Is she satisfying all your needs?”
“Excuse me?” Gray snaps. His big, hulking, muscle-bound body tightens. For a terrifying second, I think he’s going to grab Jorge and toss him off the porch.
I stare at Jorge, willing him to shut the hell up. I’ve done my part by not outing him as to who he really is. Maybe, if he was somebody else, I could threaten to tell his wife. But Jorge used to brag about cheating on his wife. She knew about it, always took him back, always forgave him. Escaping that messed-up dynamic made me all the more certain to be loyal if I ever found a man.
“Does she please you?” Jorge says.
Gray clenches his fists, looking as if he’s ready for extreme action. It’s like the urge to protect me swells inside him. It reminds me of how he looked when we got steamy, his passion so intense, it was almost freaking intimidating.
“Callie’s doing a great job,” Gray growls.
“But what kind of job?”
Gray looks at Sloane as if she’s going to tell her date to rein it in, but Sloane is smirking like this is the best show she’s ever witnessed. After a pause, Gray snaps, “Sloane.”
“What?”
“He needs to stop.”
“Has he struck a nerve?” Sloane counters. “Come on, Gray. Do you think I’m blind? We’ve all seen the little looks between you. It’s obvious. Something’s going on here, isn’t it? You’ve moved a young woman into our home, trying to make her Emery’s new mommy. It’s cold.”
Gray stands up, his hands on his hips, breathing through clenched teeth. I want to go to him, put my hand on his chest, and tell him to calm down. But I can’t, obviously. I just have to sit here, wait, and watch as disaster gets closer and closer.
I’m just the nanny. I try to turn it into a mantra.
“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” Gray snaps. “You walked out, Sloane.”
“You never cared about me. You were always cold. You were always distant.”
“After what you did, you’ve got some goddamn nerve talking like that,” Gray snaps.
“Are you going to say Emery was a mistake again, huh?”
“I never said that,” he growls.
“Gray,” I whisper. “Emery might hear…”
Gray looks at me with sorrow, and I almost feel like I might start crying. It’s devastating, the pain in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw.
“Yeah, listen to the nanny.” Jorge laughs coldly, a sound I remember well. “Listen to Miss Up Her Own Ass, the bitch too prissy to know when she’s got a good thing.”
Gray walks over to Jorge, looming over him, making the size difference obvious. In my life, before leaving the cult, I saw violent exchanges. I learned how to turn off my panic so they wouldn’t tear apart my mind. But that doesn’t mean I want to see them.
“Gray.” I stand up and touch his arm. “That’s enough.”
“What’s your goddamn problem?” Gray growls. “All night, you’ve been looking at Callie like…”
He trails off. A tremor moves through his body like the warning signs of a volcanic eruption. He looks at me, then looks at Sloane. “What the fuck? His name’s not Maxwell. That’s Jorge Lopez. That’s Callie’s ex-boss. I knew I recognized him. What sick game is this, Sloane?”
Chapter Seventeen
Gray
I’m so full of rage I can barely think. Jorge grins at me, and Sloane doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. She looks proud. It makes me sick. I want to grab Jorge and bounce his head off the goddamn floor, kick him in the gut, make him scream in agony for daring to come here. And Callie… keeping it together all through dinner, somehow not freaking out when she was sitting across from the man who tormented her.
“What are you talking about?” Sloane says with pretend innocence.
“You know what I’m talking about,” I snarl. “I can see it on your face. Why would you bring him here? How did you even know?”
Finally, she drops the act. “Oh, don’t overreact. It’s just a little trick—a little fun. Jorge here has been dragging Callie’s name through the mud on some internet forums, so I figured, why not give them a chance to resolve the matter? You know that conflict resolution is my specialty.”
“Yeah, man, just rel—”
“Gray, don’t,” Callie whimpers, but I move without thinking before the reasonable part of me can have any say in the matter.
I grab Jorge’s shirt and haul him one-handed to his feet. He gasps, his legs kicking, his eyes widening as some sobriety creeps into him. He looks like exactly what he is—a pathetic douchebag. He gasps as I shake him. When he grabs my wrist like he’s going to pry me loose, he feels so weak. I could break him for even thinking about hurting Callie.