Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Enough of that.”
I push myself up against the headboard so I can gather her more securely into my arms.
She’s shaking, and with a muffled, hurt sound, she burrows into me.
I stroke a hand over her hair, down her back, resting my chin on top of her head and holding her as tight as I can.
“Don’t give up on Angela yet. She’s tough as nails and she’s beat this shit before,” I say. “She’s not down for the count. Just taking a breather.”
“How can you say that?” she chokes out. “You... you saw her. You saw how bad off she is. This experimental treatment, it’s far-fetched. They told us not to get our hopes up for good reason. She’s barely alive, Grant.”
“But she’s alive,” I growl, trying like hell to convince both of us because I’m not ready to give up and give in to one more Sanderson family tragedy. “And since we don’t know who your Pa is, I gotta say, that Sanderson stubbornness had to come from somewhere.”
Ophelia’s laugh is brittle, but real.
“Ethan used to tell me I was pretty as a flower and stubborn as a skunk.”
“Skunks are stubborn and not just stinky? Good old Ethan. Guess he wasn’t wrong.”
“Hey!” Ophelia whacks my chest lightly, but she’s smiling when she lifts her head to look at me. She sniffs and rubs her nose. “You’re really gonna pick on me after last night?”
“If I didn’t pick on you, you wouldn’t know I care.” I trace my thumb under one gleaming eye.
Smiling her gaze falls lower, stopping on my right bicep.
“No way. Is that...?” She reaches out, gently touching the black butterfly on my skin.
“Took you long enough to notice, Butterfly,” I deflect.
She smacks me playfully, wiping a tear that speeds down her cheek. “You prick. You secretive, magnificent, softhearted prick. When did you get it, Grant? And why?”
“When do you think?” My brows dart up until she gives back a look that says she knows the answer. “As for why, you can take a good guess. How shit ended with us before—that last stupid fight—it didn’t sit well with me at all and I was too chickenshit to go down to Florida and get in your face. So, I settled for what I could do in the here and now. I’m man enough to admit it. I was a little damn obsessed. I needed you haunting me, Philia, the same way I’ve held onto Ethan all these years. If only so I wouldn’t let myself forget you. Not then. Not ever.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers, desperately sweeping another tear away. “You’re the worst.”
I suppose I am.
I certainly don’t regret being terrible as she kisses my cheek with so much love in those lips it spears my heart like a marshmallow.
“You gonna be okay?” I stroke her jaw with my thumb.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m just off-kilter from everything. Ros, Mom, that weird guy showing up again...”
I frown. “What do you mean, again? You see him?”
She chews her lip.
“...maybe?” She winces, peeking at me guiltily.
“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me?” I demand.
“Sorry! I didn’t want you to worry.” Sighing, she shakes her head. “I’m not even sure it was him, anyway. Probably just me jumping at shadows. When I left the medical center, I thought I saw someone by my car. But when I ran into the parking lot, there was nobody there.”
“Forget stinky. You really are goddamned stubborn,” I huff, pulling her closer. It’s like I’m fucking hardwired to protect her, to shelter her, to keep her near me, even if it means using my brick of a body as a human shield. “Maybe you imagined it. But maybe you fuckin’ didn’t, too. Next time you even think you see him skulking around, you call me. Understood?”
She goes stiff against me, but soon she melts, her arms twining around my neck.
“Okay, okay. Guess I’ll be calling you every time a blowing leaf startles me. That only happens ten times a day lately.”
I snort.
“And I’ll answer every time. Better to call you crazy than dead.” I bend my head, resting my temple to hers, just leaning into her and soaking her in. Part of me still remembers the spindly girl she used to be, but right now my arms are overflowing with the lushness of pure woman.
“If you insist, Grant,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I do. I got a bad feeling. Think that shitstorm that started with the Arrendells and Delilah Graves hasn’t fully died down. That man who jumped you, I think those clothes he’s wearing were Arrendell livery. Y’know, staff uniforms. They might’ve sent him down here to watch us. You, me, I’m not sure which.”
Ophelia makes a thoughtful sound, sucking her lower lip in a way that makes me want to bite it.
“Why would they be after me?”
Good question.
“It could just be keeping you away from Ros, if our boy’s on Aleksander’s payroll,” I say. “Everyone and their grandma must know you wouldn’t be happy about her marrying that mannequin-looking fuck. So maybe Jeeves is tailing you so you won’t try to break things up.”