Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Okay, fine, but you hated me,” she said.
“Hated who you were.”
“Not were. Am. Being a cop is a big part of who I am. So, you hating that piece of me means you also hate me.”
“Don’t hate you.”
“But do you love me?”
He forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat, unsure if those words could even pass his lips.
“And if so, is our love even strong enough to make it worth all this trouble?”
“Don’t know, darlin’.”
“Do you want to find out?”
Did he?
Yeah, he fucking did.
“Tell me you love me and that you’re willing to do your damnedest to make this work. I need to hear that, Rook.”
No one ever told him they loved him. Not once.
Not his mother, not his father, not even his brother.
Did his father and brother love him? Probably, but they’d never say it to each other.
Jet was the first person to actually say it in all of his thirty-four years.
Of course, the first time he heard it, it had to come from a damn cop. How fucked was that?
But Jet was more than her job. A whole hell of a lot more.
He was now pretty fucking sure what he felt for her was love. It had to be because if he walked away from her, or she kicked his ass to the curb, he was afraid it would tear him open, rip out his heart and crush it.
No, he was wrong. He wasn’t pretty fucking sure, he was damn sure.
Now, he just needed to tell her.
To give back what she just gave him.
To reassure her.
Judge had once said that dogs were a good judge of character. And if Jury didn’t like someone, there was a good reason.
He glanced down at Cujo and then back up at Jet, the only other person his little asshole dog would let handle him.
He grabbed her around the back of the neck and yanked her toward him, slamming her chest into his. He dropped his head and saw her mouth pull into a knowing smile as she stared back up at him.
“I’m still going to make you say it,” she warned.
“The bite on my neck ain’t enough proof?”
“Nope.”
“How about me eatin’ you out ’til you scream?”
“No.”
“How about me fuckin’ you ’til you soak the bed?”
“Nice try.”
“You don’t want any of that?”
“Oh, I’m going to get all that. But not yet.”
His lips hovered over hers. “Love you, darlin’. Hate your uniform but love you.”
She rolled her eyes but her smile widened. “And?”
“And we’re gonna do whatever we need to do to make this work.”
“It won’t be easy,” she warned.
No, it wouldn’t be easy. But they’d make sure it was worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Using one knuckle, Jet rapped on the door frame to her cousin and chief’s office since the door was wide open. Max had an open-door policy unless he was having a “discussion” with one of his officers or was on a phone call he needed to keep private.
He was a great chief and leader. Jet had been relieved when he extended an invitation to her to come work for Manning Grove PD. She had been miserable at her former PD, a smaller force with the officers also being very close-minded.
She had been the only female officer and, while they didn’t insult her to her face, they did it a lot behind her back, thinking she didn’t know. She did.
Max had been her savior and for that, she’d be forever grateful.
That made this upcoming conversation even more difficult.
Her stomach churned as the dark-haired man, with the same-colored eyes that mirrored hers, glanced up and waved her in.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t joke.
He seemed way too serious.
Most likely it had to do with his meeting with the head of the federal task force not even an hour earlier.
When she spotted a plain, dark gray sedan in the PD’s lot, she knew exactly who it belonged to. So, she made herself scarce until the meeting was over. Instead of returning to her apartment, she had taken a drive through town, stopped at Coffee and Cream for a caffeine fix and then took a little detour out to Copperhead Road, checking for any visible activity up on the mountain.
The lane to the clan’s compound was blocked off with another plain, dark gray sedan and an agent, keeping out anyone who didn’t belong.
Like Jet.
On her way back to station, she buzzed past Dutch’s Garage but didn’t stop in. Things were too raw from last night and she didn’t want to push herself on the club right now. Things needed to settle a little bit first, then she’d see how everything eventually shook out.
She figured it would be bumpy for a while.
However, she would share whatever info she could that might ease Trip and Judge’s mind about the safety of their brotherhood and family. That meant they wouldn’t get any confidential info and definitely nothing that would risk her PD or the task force.