Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Gypsy perks up. “Oh, is it a secret? I love secrets. Tell me.”
“I’m not telling you because you’ll run straight back to your husband and tell him.”
She doesn’t even try to deny it.
“She can keep her mouth shut,” Birdie says. “For a little bit. Right, Gyps?”
Before she can answer, Bianca walks into the room, still looking freshly fucked from this afternoon. If I wasn’t forcing myself to get the hell out of here, I know I’d spend the rest of the day between her thighs, which is a big fucking problem.
“Hey.” She smiles at Birdie before her eyes land on Gypsy.
Like clockwork, my dick comes to attention as Bianca sizes up the unfamiliar threat standing in my house. Gypsy is a drop-dead bombshell of a woman who turns heads wherever she goes, and I can admit that because I’m a man with a pair of functioning eyes. But Bianca couldn’t know Gypsy is more like a sister to me than anything, and right now, her gaze darts back and forth between us like she’s trying to get a read on the situation.
“This is my sister,” Birdie introduces them. “Gypsy, this is Lyric.”
“Oh.” Gypsy’s mouth falls open, and she only takes a minute to get up to speed. “Holy shit. She’s the secret, isn’t she?”
I’m aware that Gypsy knows exactly what Bianca looks like. And judging by the way she’s eyeing her right now, all the pieces are falling into place.
“How am I a secret?” Bianca’s brows pinch together in confusion.
“There is no secret,” I interject. “Do you have your shopping list?”
“It’s on the table.” She crosses her arms and pins me with her gaze.
“Ace is outside,” Birdie informs me. “You can give it to him, and he’ll take care of it while we hang with Lyric.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.” I look at Gypsy. “Walk me outside? I need a word with you.”
Bianca snares me with her gaze, and for a second, I stand there, uncertain of what to say to her. She’s clearly unsettled by the thought of me having a private word with Gypsy, and she’s looking for assurances. A part of me wants to give them to her. But then I remember I don’t owe her anything, and that’s not the kind of guy I am. Not anymore.
Gypsy follows me out the door and smirks the minute it shuts behind us. “You want me to keep my lips zipped, don’t you?”
“Give me a week,” I bargain. “I’ll talk to Lucian about it myself.”
“Is that really her?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“I mean, she looks like her,” Gypsy says. “But that’s insane, right? How is this even possible? I need details.”
“Not now.” I shake my head. “I have to go. Can you keep this between us for a while, or what?”
She rocks back on her heels and shrugs. “It’s going to cost you.”
“Seriously?” I arch a brow at her. “You and your husband have enough money to buy a small island. What more could you possibly want?”
“A babysitter.” She offers me an evil grin. “You have to clear your schedule on a day of my choosing.”
“Babysitting?” My stomach drops. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“I’m definitely not,” she insists. “What’s the big deal? You take care of Zoe all the time.”
“That’s different,” I grunt. “Zoe is practically an angel. Your kid’s a little hellion just like you.”
“Hey, watch it.” Gypsy flips me off. “That’s my offer, and it will buy you one week of silence. So take it or leave it.”
“Fuck’s sake.” I glance at my watch. “Fine.”
She lets out a mischievous little laugh and gestures to the door. “Good, now let me back inside so you can go do whatever it is that has your pants on fire.”
“Hey.” I glance down at the brunette sitting in the booth. “Are you Dr. Woods?”
“That’s me.” She adjusts her glasses and smiles up at me. “You must be Kodiak?”
I nod and slide into the seat across from her, hoping she doesn’t recognize me. She looks more like the type to listen to country music, but there’s always a chance she’s seen my mug shot after the media had a field day with it. I’m still doubting myself for going through with this at all, but Lucian swears she’s trustworthy. He’s worked with her as an expert witness on many of his cases, and she hasn’t failed him yet.
“You can call me Leslie,” she says, breaking the ice.
I fold my hands across the table. No way in hell am I telling her my real name. “Thanks for meeting with me, Leslie.”
“Lucian mentioned you might be interested in setting up some sessions.”
“Actually, I want to ask you some questions about something else. More along the lines of the consulting work you do.”
“Oh.” She shifts, leaning back against the booth. “Okay, then, what can I help you with?”
The server interrupts, asking me if I want anything. I order a coffee just for the hell of it, and she retreats with the menus.