Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
It had been years since I’d been this close to Savannah.
I’d forgotten so much. I’d made myself forget. The way we fit. How good she smelled. The way her mouth moved under mine. Fuck. Not the time for that particular trip down memory lane. Not the fucking time.
Still holding her, I asked again, “Savannah, what does she want?”
She let out another long breath. “She wants to see Nicky. She said she misses him.” Lifting one shoulder in a helpless shrug, she said, “I don’t know how she can miss him when she hasn’t asked about him in two years.”
Doing the math, I had to ask, “Not since your husband died?”
“She blamed me. She didn’t handle it well.” Savannah gave a huff of a laugh, abrupt and sharp with bitterness. “She lost it, said it was all my fault for being a bad wife. I wasn’t patient enough. I pushed him too hard. I was cheating on him and Nicky wasn’t his, even though he looks exactly like Oliver. She tried to ban us from the funeral, and afterward she ordered me to stay away from her family. She said she’d get a restraining order if I didn’t.”
Savannah lifted a hand, palm up. “I was grieving and angry at Oliver for dying on me and trying to figure out how to work and raise Nicky by myself. I couldn’t handle her stuff too. So I did what she asked and left them all alone. I haven’t heard from any of them since we buried Oliver.” She heaved in a breath, her eyes swimming with tears.
Alarmed, I pulled her into me, wet heat running down the side of my neck as her tears spilled over. Shit. Her breath shuddered in and out, hitching, every muscle in her body locked tight as she fought for control. Even as she tried to get it together, she softened against me, her forehead warm on my neck, one hand gripping my t-shirt.
I dared to stroke her back, trying to soothe. Soothing wasn’t my default. I could piss her off in a heartbeat, but this? I would have bet I was the last person she’d trust with her pain. I would have been wrong. She melted into me, tears slowing, breath evening out under the gentle stroke of my fingers up and down her spine.
I could have stood like that all day. Before I got used to it, Savannah jerked back, scrubbing under her eyes with her palms, her cheeks bright red as she gathered her dignity around her in a cool cloak. “Please stop annoying Mrs. Bailey, Finn. I’m begging you.”
I lifted a hand and bopped her on the tip of her nose with one finger, my nerves sparking at the flare of temper in her eyes. So much better than tears. “No, Savannah, you aren’t begging me. Not yet. But you will.”
Her gasp of outrage filled my soul.
Water bottle in hand, I strolled from the gym, finally feeling like my life was moving in the right direction.
Chapter Four
SAVANNAH
“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!”
I quickened my pace down the hall to the kitchens. I knew that voice. Mrs. Bailey, our cook. The only cook we’d managed to keep for more than a few months. A low rumble answered back, the words indistinguishable. I didn’t need to hear them. I knew that voice too. If Finn Sawyer drove off another cook, I was going to kill him. For real.
What the hell had he done this time? I knew he snuck into the kitchens late at night to cook. That little habit hadn’t changed, even after all his years away. But he didn’t use Mrs. Bailey’s supplies, and he left the kitchens clean, so I let it go. I also knew he hadn’t done half of the crap she accused him of. I’d let that go too. I’d banned him from the kitchens. That was the best I could do. If this was about those damned spices, I was going to . . .
I forced myself to take a deep breath as I rounded the door to the main kitchen. Empty. Following my ear, I turned left and came to a stop in the doorway of the pantry attached to the kitchen. Finn stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a mulish expression on his face, staring down at Mrs. Bailey, who glared at him with undisguised hatred.
“What did he do?” I asked, wishing for the thousandth time that Finn Sawyer hadn’t come home after his father died. Why couldn’t he have stuck with his disappearing act? Oh, yeah, the will and all that Sawyer money.
No one knew exactly how much was in the trusts Prentice Sawyer had left to his children, except maybe Griffen and the family attorney, but Prentice had been a billionaire. A pittance to him would still be quite the inheritance. Finn would have been a fool to walk away out of spite. Finn was a lot of things, but never a fool.