Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
But the conversation had left a massive pit in my stomach that was quickly filling with dread.
SIXTEEN
lexi
At home, I said nothing to Devlin as I packed a bag for the two-day trip. He must have noticed I was agitated about something, because he asked me several times if I was okay. I said I was fine, just nervous about the meeting tomorrow, which was also true.
On the drive to the airport, I kept looking over at his hand on the steering wheel, recalling what Tabitha had said. Was all of it bullshit? I hated that she was making me doubt his word after I’d come to trust him. After he’d promised me honesty at all times.
“Devlin,” I said, playing with the friendship bracelet on my wrist. “Were you fired from your job in Boston? Or did you quit?”
“I quit.” He glanced at me. “I told you that.”
“I know, but . . .” I sighed. “Tabitha has obviously talked to Bob Oliver, and he told her a different story.”
“What story?”
“That you were taken off the Black Diamond account when you couldn’t close the deal, and you were so mad you punched someone at the office and got fired for it.” I looked at his left hand. At the wedding band I’d placed on his finger. “So what’s the truth?”
“The truth is that I was taken off the account, I quit, and then I gave Bob Oliver the punch in the face he’d deserved for two years—probably longer.”
“You never told me that. About hitting him.”
“I’m not that proud of it. Actually, fuck that. I’m proud of it.” He shrugged. “It just didn’t seem like a necessary part of the story the night I came to your house to ask you to marry me. I didn’t want you to think I was a jerk.”
“Pretty sure I already thought that.”
He laughed. “See? It was already an uphill climb to get you to trust me. I didn’t want to add more incline with anger management problems.”
“Okay.” I kept fiddling with the beads around my wrist.
“Hey.” He reached over and took my hand. “Stop worrying. It doesn’t matter who Bob Oliver talks to. We have what we need. We’re moving forward.”
“Right,” I said, inhaling and exhaling. “We have what we need. We’re moving forward.” It reminded me of what his father had told me about him—how he was always chasing a goal, and as soon as he achieved it he was onto the next. I wasn’t sure Devlin would ever slow down enough to let someone get that close. You must have really stolen his heart.
I hadn’t, of course. And it was no use wishing I had.
I hardly slept that night, I was so nervous.
In the morning, even before Devlin was awake, I gave up trying and got out of bed. I threw on the button-up shirt he’d taken off and tossed on the floor in our hurry to get undressed last night, and wandered out of the dark bedroom, pulling the door shut behind me.
I marveled at the luxury I hadn’t been able to fully appreciate since we’d gotten in so late. Bad weather had delayed our flight, and it was after midnight by the time we’d arrived. We’d gone straight to bed.
He’d said his Boston apartment was “nice,” which was a massive understatement. Huge windows and high ceilings drenched the place in soft gray light, showing off the gorgeous wood plank floors, the sleek modern lines of his furniture, the shiny quartz countertops and stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. I popped a pod in his coffee maker, yawning while it filled my cup. The aroma of a dark roast filled my nostrils, and I breathed it in gratefully. When it was done, I moused around in his pantry and found a bag of sugar. He didn’t have any cream, but I could live without it. After adding a little sweetness, I wrapped my hands around the cup and shuffled barefoot over to the living room window.
It was overcast and rainy today, and I watched colorful umbrellas move quickly along downtown sidewalks as people made their way to work. Taking a sip of my coffee, I wondered if I could see the building where our meeting would be today at eleven a.m.
Behind me, the bedroom door opened. I heard footsteps in the kitchen, a cupboard door closing, second cup of coffee being brewed. A moment later, Devlin appeared at the window beside me. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of soft gray sweatpants.
“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“Morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“I’m not sure I did.” I sipped my coffee. “You?”
“Like a baby.”
I sighed. “Jerk.”
Chuckling, he moved behind me and wrapped one arm around my middle. Kissed my shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay, Lexi. We’re going to walk in there and dazzle them with our pitch deck and our professionalism, not to mention our stunning good looks.”