Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Everyone is listening.
There is a crowd of officers and detectives hanging on my every word. I’m pretty sure even Kurt is invested and the mayor is still listening on the other end of the line. Ask me if I care. Ask me if I care when I’m performing my own open-heart surgery and this women who I can’t live without still looks dubious. “You’ve moved on, in your head. I can see that.” It guts me to acknowledge that out loud. “You’ve written me off. Okay. Tell me you feel something for me and I’ll write myself back in. I’ll bust my ass doing it.”
“Of course I feel something for you,” she whispers.
Our audience lets out a collective sigh of relief.
Nothing compared to mine. It’s like I just made it from the ocean floor to the surface.
“Thank God,” I say on a rocky exhale, leaning down to kiss her. But her eyes are still cloudy. She needs more than words. I’ve spent our entire acquaintance telling her I commit to nothing and no one. Actions are the only thing that will convince her.
Done.
I’m in it for keeps—and she’s not going to doubt me for long.
Chapter 22
Taylor
“What is he doing?” I ask, staring outside the front of our rental house.
We’re packed, ready to leave, suitcases by the front door.
We were preparing to load the luggage into the trunk of my car when I spotted Myles across the street, sitting on his bike. Or more like…waiting? Helmet in lap, arms crossed over the powerful breadth of his chest. A duffel bag is secured to the rear of his seat.
What is he doing?
Is he waiting to say goodbye?
There is no way I’m holding him to the promises he made last night. Those were words soaked in adrenaline and residual fear. Promises he made because he feels protective of me and I was in danger. Now that the sun has come up, I’m sure he’s back to his bounty hunter mindset. Quick, no-strings jobs are what he wants. If he doesn’t get attached, he can’t get hurt.
“Maybe you should go out and talk to him?” Jude suggests.
I could. I should.
I’m just not sure I’m prepared to hear goodbye. Because despite my best intentions, the things he said to me last night in that passionate tone of voice…they might have given me a teeny tiny bit of hope. Dangerous, stupid hope. Ignore it.
“Let’s go. We want to beat the traffic.”
I pick up my suitcase, hesitate in front of the door and push it open. When Jude passes me, I close the door behind him, lock it and leave the key for Lisa under the large ceramic starfish on the porch. On my way to the car, I frown at the biker across the street. “Good morning,” I call, handing my suitcase to Jude so he can lift it into the trunk. “We’re getting a jump on the traffic. Back to Connecticut.”
He nods at me. Nods. But says nothing.
Then he puts on his helmet and the bike roars to life.
Huh. So he’s not even going to say goodbye? Maybe we’re taking the easier route of parting ways without any of the messy apologies or lies that we’ll call each other. Fine. I’ll follow his lead. Never mind that my heart is withering like a grape left too long on the vine.
I crank the volume on the AM traffic station and back out of the driveway, my eyebrows drawing together when Myles follows our next three turns. Just a coincidence. We’re both heading toward the interstate, obviously.
When we reach the interstate, Myles takes the same ramp. Same direction.
He barely leaves enough room between us for other cars to merge.
I switch lanes, he switches lanes.
“Is he following me?”
A laugh bursts out of my brother. “It took you way too long to figure that out.”
“All the way back to Hartford? Uh-uh. No way.”
“All the way to your front door, Taylor. You know that’s what’s happening.” Jude turns in his seat to observe Myles through the rear window, grinning ear to ear. “Admit this is romantic.”
“No,” I say, breathily. “It’s not.”
“He sacrificed himself for you on the beach last night and now he’s literally tailing you home.” Jude drops his voice and switches to an Australian accent, as if he’s narrating the Discovery Channel. “This appears to be some kind of unique bounty hunter ritual, Taylor. Be mean to the potential mate as long as possible, then wife her when she least expects it.”
Oh God. My lower lip trembles a little bit. That smidgen of hope he lit inside of me last night is growing…and that’s dangerous. This whole idea is dangerous and stupid. “That is not what is happening here. He’s just making sure I don’t trip on the way home and land in the lap of a serial killer or something.”