Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“Any bigger, and it would be a fucking horse,” a husky voice said.
I swung my gaze from the man and dog outside to see Finton standing in the kitchen in a pair of green-and-navy plaid pajama pants and a navy T-shirt.
His hair was slightly mussed, and he gave me a sleepy grin. “Mornin’, Noa.”
Finton was the oldest of the Watts children at thirty-two. He’d been engaged at twenty-seven, but his fiancée had been killed in a skiing accident seven months before their wedding. The tragedy had changed him. He rarely dated. Unlike his brother, he was more serious and focused. Which was probably why he was a successful architect, but he worked too much.
“Good morning,” I replied, then glanced back at the dog making its way to the door. “What breed is it?” I asked, not sure I’d ever seen a dog that big.
“Newfoundland,” Finton replied, then stretched while yawning. “AKA fucking huge. Mom is making him keep the thing in his bedroom at night. She doesn’t want him roaming. She’s afraid he’ll break shit.”
Birch reached the door, and it swung open before his new friend came barreling inside. Its eyes locked on me.
“He doesn’t jump—anymore at least. But he likes attention. Best you love on him before you get coffee, or he’ll follow you around, begging,” Birch said from the open doorway.
Smiling, I set my cup down just as he reached me.
“What’s his name?” I asked, bending over to rub his head as he nudged my thigh with his nose.
“Titan,” he told me.
“Aren’t you just an adorable little bear?” I cooed as he basked in my attention.
“How old is he?” I asked, not looking up from him.
“Eight months,” Birch replied.
Finton walked over and picked up my empty cup. “I’ll make it. Cappuccino?”
I glanced up at him and nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I’m afraid I don’t remember how it works.”
He smirked. “I figured.”
“TEN MINUTES!” Jellie yelled from the living room. “HURRY UP!”
Titan’s head turned toward the noise, and he trotted off in her direction.
“You’d better go stop him before he tries to get on Mom’s sofa,” Finton said over his shoulder.
“I told him he couldn’t do that last night,” Birch replied.
Finton made a grunt that sounded like he didn’t think that was going to work, but said nothing more.
“Okay, fine. I’ll go make sure. But Jellie’s squealing would probably scare him off anyway,” Birch said. “Make me an espresso while you’re at it.”
“No,” Finton replied.
Birch looked at me, then his brother. “But you’re making Noa a cappuccino.”
“She can’t work the damn machine.”
I nodded my head to back that up.
Birch laughed. “Yeah, that’s the reason,” he said, shaking his head as he headed out of the kitchen after Titan.
What was that supposed to mean? Frowning, I watched him go, then turned to glance back at Finton, who stood silently while the machine finished my cappuccino. The sudden quiet made it awkward—or at least, I felt that way.
“I have to say, I like Titan a lot better than his normal plus-ones during the holidays,” I said jokingly, although I did, in fact, much prefer the dog.
“That isn’t a high bar. I’d prefer a fucking wild animal to his typical dates,” Finton replied as he held out the cup to me.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He nodded, but said nothing more before focusing on making himself a cup.
Taking mine, I headed to go join Jellie on the sofa to try and enjoy one of my favorite days of the year while, inside, my heart was aching.
Six
Ransom
Closing my bedroom door, I went to the closet and punched in the code for my safe that held my cell phone to see a text from Wayne—the security guard at Noa’s apartment complex, who now worked for me. Fuck!
I’d gone down to eat breakfast, and since Bane watched me like a motherfucking hawk, I didn’t take this phone with me anywhere that he would be. I was only supposed to have the one phone that Linc had given me. If he knew I’d bought this one, he’d be furious.
Wayne: I have some info on Ms. Raines, sir.
That was all it said. Glancing back at my bedroom door, I double-checked I’d locked it before moving farther away from it and into my en suite and closing that door behind me too. The more barriers between me and anyone who could hear me, the better.
The phone barely rang once.
“Mr. Carver,” the older man said over the line.
“What is it?” I barked a little too aggressively.
“Ms. Raines left last night. She had a suitcase with her. Harry was on duty and said that she told him she was going to New Hampshire for the holiday and then on to Chicago from there for a book event. She won’t be home until Tuesday.”
Dammit! Of course. She always went to Jellie’s for the holidays. Portsmouth, New Hampshire. But what event was in Chicago?