Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“For fuck’s sake,” Nox grumbled under his breath.
“Sorry? Did someone say something?” She glanced around the room and when no one fessed up, she looked at him.
He kept his expression masked.
“All right, I see how excited you all are,” she said dryly, “so let’s move our chairs.”
The group was small tonight. At most a dozen people, including the woman who haunted his gray matter since last week.
He’d been right when he thought she was bold. That exchange out in the parking lot after the meeting had proved it.
She seemed willing to take on any challenge, including him.
He needed to make sure she knew that wasn’t an option. He wasn’t a challenge for her to conquer.
He didn’t want to pretend to be at the meeting for “sharing and caring.”
He didn’t want to share.
He definitely didn’t want to care.
He just wanted to be left alone.
He remained seated as everyone rose and moved their chairs into a large circle. Aaliyah slid the dais away from the group and grabbed an empty chair for herself.
She wanted to be “one of them.”
He hated this whole circle concept. It made him face other group members and he couldn’t hide in the back. It would also be harder to sneak in with seconds to spare and rush out immediately after.
So, yeah, this new setup sucked ass.
As Aaliyah’s very observant gaze circled the group, it landed on him again. “You’re messing up our circle by making it lopsided.”
All eyes turned toward him.
Fucking great. “I’m fine where I’m at. I’ll stay in my row.”
One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. “One chair does not make a row. How about you join us.” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an actual order.
She mentioned she had two kids. She just used her mom voice.
On him.
For fuck’s sake.
When he didn’t move, she rose from her chair and came over. What was she going to do? Wrestle him into compliance?
She might get a rude awakening.
She lowered her voice to assure him, “Change is good.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“And in this room, my opinion matters.”
“Mine doesn’t?”
“Only if you express it. With actual words. Do you plan on sharing tonight?”
“Is that another change you’re making? Is sharing now a requirement to attend?” Because if it was, he’d either find another group somewhere else or pretend he was attending by finding somewhere to hide for two hours once a week.
The only problem with the second option was that Jamison lived and worked in Shadow Valley and Nox wouldn’t put it past his sergeant and BAMC president to check the parking lot for his bike or truck to make sure he was holding up his end of the agreement.
Attend counseling and these meetings or lose his Shadow Valley PD badge and get kicked off the Tri-State Federal Drug Task Force.
Neither which he wanted.
He pulled in a breath through his nose.
She had him by the damn balls. All she had to do was squeeze hard enough to bring him to heel.
Setting his jaw, he quickly surged to his feet, causing her to stumble backwards in surprise.
“Those heels almost made you trip. Try orthopedic shoes next time. I’m sure Bonnie can suggest a good place to buy them.”
She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes on him as he lifted the metal folding chair and set it down with a loud clatter in line with the rest of the circle.
He glanced at her. “That good? Is your circle perfect now?”
“It’s not perfect yet,” she said, “but it will be soon.” After delivering that warning, she strode across the circle and back to her chair, quickly planting her ass in it.
He tried not to notice how good her ass looked in her dress pants. He failed.
Tonight she wore what he thought were called capris, pants that were short for her long-ass legs. They exposed slender ankles and revealed a delicate gold chain decorating one of them.
The woman sure liked jewelry and dressing up.
She had to be high maintenance.
Nox was the exact opposite. Give him a pair of comfortable jeans, a pair of broken-in boots, a T-shirt, slap a baseball cap on his head and he was good.
When he worked the road, he wore his uniform.
He owned three suits. All in black. He only pulled them out of his closet for weddings, funerals and court appearances.
He owned no jewelry except his wedding ring. And that was a plain gold band.
He drove an older Chevy truck without all the bells and whistles, owned a Harley with all the bells and whistles and second-hand furniture filled his apartment.
Currently, his bike was his most prized possession.
Before that, it was his wife.
He would give up everything he owned to have her back.
He would do anything to speak to her one more time.
He would sacrifice all his material possessions—past, current and future—for the chance to say one last goodbye.
But the harsh truth was…