Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
The evening sun drenches the house in a muted glow. The warmth that bathes the white walls reminds me of a picture from a magazine. A rainbow stretches across the black leather sofa as if a pot of gold sits on the other side, not a gray rug.
The golden hour is my favorite time of the day. Everything is a bit warmer, a little softer—a striking difference from my normal course of business. Moments like this, when I’m tucked away in my home and surrounded by my favorite things, are what I most look forward to when the sun is shining.
And that’s becoming a problem.
I let out a breath and allow my shoulders to fall.
“Want me to tell Ford that I refuse to work on the Kelley case? If we both say we won’t, what can he do?”
I smile at the memory—and from the warmth rippling throughout my body, a product of Dahlia’s response.
Her reply came immediately. Fiercely. She unequivocally had my back.
It’s so fucking sexy. She’s so fucking sexy.
She’s a standalone in a trio of people who I absolutely trust, something I struggle with daily. Ford and I have been through some serious shit, and he’s never wavered. He’s always had my back. And my brother, Travis, has been my ride or die since the day he was born. We, too, have battled through unsavory situations and came out on the other side as survivors because we had each other. But Dahlia? There’s no reason for her to be so loyal to me. Yet I don’t question it—although I probably should.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” I groan, pulling my phone from my pocket. I set aside my thoughts and answer my brother’s call.
“Hey, Trav,” I say, entering the kitchen.
“Hey. Are you home by any chance? I had to run to the hardware store five minutes from your house. Thought I’d stop by if you aren’t busy.”
“I’m here. About to make a sandwich. Want one?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’m in the drive-through right now. Want a burger?”
“Sure.”
“Be there in a minute.”
The call ends, and I slide my phone onto the countertop. I grab a bottle of water and head to the living room.
Guilt weighs heavy on my shoulders as I sink into my favorite chair near the fireplace. Ford’s offer lingers in my head, reminding me of the decision that must be made. It’s a choice that most people would kill for, and I’m a fuck for being put out by it.
Do I take a fantastic job that pays entirely too much or a paid vacation that pays more than I deserve? What terrible options.
I sigh, resting my head against the chair and closing my eyes. The stillness of the house covers me, helping me recenter. As the tension I’ve carried all day eases across the back of my neck, the truth finds an opening to slip into focus.
It’s not the job or the vacation that has me frustrated. It’s not Laina’s screaming fanbase or having too much time on my hands.
It’s my life.
“Knock, knock,” Travis says as the front door opens and then closes. “They were out of pickles. Can you believe that shit? How does a fast-food joint run out of pickles?” He drops a bag onto my lap. “That would be like you running out of bullshit. It’s a main ingredient of the brand.”
“Did you work on that analogy all the way over here?”
“No, it just came to me in the moment. I’m brilliant like that.”
We exchange a smile.
My younger brother tears into his meal with the same gusto he’s had since he was a toddler. The nostalgia warms my heart. The reason behind it cools it just as fast.
“Slow down,” I tell him, taking my burger from the bag like a civilized individual. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
“I know.” He chuckles around a mouthful of french fries. “I forget that I’m a grown-ass man who has his own money and can buy all the food he wants.”
He swallows so much at once that I can see it move down his throat.
“So what did you do today?” I ask.
“I about fell off a roof.”
“You like to keep things interesting, don’t you?”
He grins. “Says the guy who intentionally puts himself in the line of fire daily.”
I unwrap my burger, remove the onions, and take a bite.
“As I was hanging off the gutter, waiting on Bradley to bring me a ladder, I had a moment to ponder life and its great mysteries.”
“Oh really?” I ask, amused. It’s hard to tell if Travis is serious and almost fell or if he’s making up a story to entertain me. He developed the skill over the many days we would walk the neighborhood, waiting to be let back into the house. We were two kids with no business wandering the streets and seeing and hearing things we had no business witnessing. “What did you come up with?”