Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Very kind of you, but there was no need. I can handle Stephanie. You don’t have to worry about me in that regard. Also, if she tries making things difficult for you, I need you to come tell me, and I’ll sort it, okay? I’m not having you dealing with the fallout of my relationship.” I nodded, and he paused, eyes on mine when he continued, “And you don’t need to keep our history together a secret from anyone. I’m proud of the time we had. To be honest, to this day, it was the best summer of my life.”
My heart pounded, cheeks heating at his words as emotion sprang forth. “Mine, too,” I whispered softly. “It feels like everything just got worse after that summer.”
Our gazes held, tension filling the room. It was too much. When I finally looked away, I noticed a photo on the shelf behind his desk. I hadn’t seen it the first time I was in there, probably because I’d been too distracted by my panic attack. I was far calmer now, and I couldn’t believe I’d missed it.
“Oh my goodness, is that a photo of us?” I asked, stepping around his desk to get a better look.
28.
Rhys
“Oh my goodness, is that a photo of us?”
My back stiffened as Charli stepped around my desk and approached the shelves. That bloody photo. When Derek had given it to me a few months ago, I’d stared at it and felt a sudden unexplainable lightness. There was a certain contentment in knowing the picture was there behind me while I worked.
And it was odd Charli noticed it because Steph never had. Then again, she’d rarely come to my office. Normally, she’d text me to come upstairs to hers.
Charli stood holding the frame in her hands, staring down at the moment captured in time, a brief period where it had felt like we’d belonged to each other. I’d just told her that summer was the best of my life, and then she’d agreed, saying it was her best summer, too, which meant I was currently wrangling with the urge to grab her, throw her down on my desk, and kiss her like I had last Friday night at the restaurant.
I hadn’t been able forget her taste nor stop thinking about how right it had felt to hold her in my arms. I knew her asking for that kiss didn’t necessarily mean she’d wanted me. Charli had been in a dark place, and the request had been her way of climbing out of it. I was a person she could be safe with. She could ask me for things without worrying about me ever asking for anything in return. I hoped she knew that.
After discovering her scumbag ex-husband had not only been coercively controlling her but violently beating her, too, I’d spent half the weekend trying to temper my rage and the other half looking the prick up. Jesse Miller was a criminal defence lawyer because, of course, he was. He was also a named partner at his law firm.
I’d forwarded his details to my ex-legion friend, Piotr, to see if he might be able to dig up some more info. I knew from experience that people who were violent towards their spouses or family members were often into other fucked up shit outside the home, and if anyone could find dirt on Jesse, it was Piotr. He hadn’t returned to an ordinary life after he’d left the legion, not like I had. Instead, he’d started working for Europol, and I only ever heard from him once or twice a year. Alongside his many other talents, Piotr was an adept hacker and could find information most regular internet users wouldn’t stumble across. He also had connections with various international government agencies, many of which I presumed were in the United States.
“Right,” I said, clearing my throat as I pushed away thoughts of murdering her ex-husband and brought my attention back to Charli and the picture. “Derek found a bunch of our old teenage photos when he was doing a clean out last year. He gave me that one.” I omitted the part where I’d purchased a special frame for it.
Charli held said frame in her hands, eyes wide as she took in the scene. Finally, her gaze flicked to mine. “You know, I can’t even remember this being taken.”
“It was the week before you went home,” I said then cleared my throat. “We were at the beach.”
“Right, now it’s coming back to me. We went to a little diner afterwards and got cheese fries.” She paused, her attention going to the other photos on the shelf, one of Mam and me when I’d been home from France to visit a few years before she’d passed and another with my cousins, Shay and Ross, and my uncle, Eugene.