Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Oh! I have a jacket and gloves you can use,” Blakely said, jumping up from the recliner and moving to her bag, which was stuffed in the corner of the living room so it’d be out of the way.
“And you have the boots I picked up for you in town the other day,” Gunner gently reminded me. He’d gotten them for me in the hopes I’d help him in the greenhouse more, though he’d never pressured me to go out with him once he realized how much I really hated playing in the dirt. I’d spent damn near fifteen minutes trying to clean the dirt from under my fingernails. “I’ve got a counter-argument for every fight you put up, sweet boy.”
I huffed again before grabbing the jacket and gloves Blakely held out to me before marching upstairs to get my boots. Gunner appeared just as I was sitting on the bed to tug them on. I frowned up at him.
“I don’t want to go outside, Papa.”
He crouched in front of me and gripped my thighs, smiling up at me. My irritation immediately bled away, and I grasped his cheeks, raking my fingernails through his blonde beard, just needing to touch him. “The walk will be good for you. When you get back, Blakely and I will have stew on the stove, you and I can get a hot shower together, and then, you can have all the cuddles you want, okay?”
I nodded and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Okay.”
He squeezed my thighs before focusing on my boots, helping me put them on and tie them up. Then, standing to his full height, he held out a hand to help me up. I took it and wiggled my toes in my new boots, a small smile pulling at my lips. We walked downstairs, and Gunner gripped my arm, pulling me to a halt. When I turned to face him, he pulled his beanie off his head and pulled it down on mine.
Reaching up, I touched it, my insides all fuzzy knowing I was wearing something of his. I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at me. “Thank you, Papa.”
“I’ll see you in a bit,” he assured me, gently nudging me in Jax’s direction.
Jax opened the door, and I slipped by him, being careful not to touch him. He stepped out behind me, shutting the door before moving around me and heading down the porch. Sighing, I shoved my fingers into Blakely’s gloves, then followed Jax down the porch and into the woods. Blowing out a breath, I watched it fog in the air before slowly dissipating.
“You know I’m not much of one for talking,” Jax began after we’d walked in silence for a few minutes, “but I just…” He paused and turned to look at me, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “Honestly, kid, we’re both shit at communicating.”
I snorted. “Who the fuck can blame us?” I asked him in all seriousness. After all we’d been through, it was no surprise communication wasn’t something we were good at.
He nodded, tilting his head back to look up at the canopy of trees above us. I followed his gaze. The sun wasn’t out today, and bits of the gray sky could be seen through the branches. Finally, he looked back at me. “You might hate me for this, but I overheard yours and Gunner’s talk the other night. The night I told you your last foster father had been dealt with. I had Rico run a background check on you.” Anger burned in my gut, boiling hot so fast, it made me a little dizzy. “He’s dispatching men to take care of everyone who put their hands on you as a kid.”
I was going to punch him in his fucking face, even if it sent me into a panic attack.
“You what?” I seethed. “Not only did you fucking betray my trust by digging into my past, but you asked Rico to do it?!” I shouted. Rico always wanted something in return, even from Jax, who was one of his only friends, from what I understood. Rico wasn’t someone to be fucked with. He was like a ghost—only seen when he wanted to be. And he was one of the wealthiest, most dangerous men on the west coast.
Something scurried away from us in the underbrush. “What are you going to owe him for this, Jax?” I demanded. I clenched my fists at my sides, my chest heaving. “What the fuck are you going to owe him?!”
Jax sighed. “Ace, I won’t owe him anything.”
“Bullshit,” I snarled. I spun on my heel, heading back for the cabin.
“Ace—”
“We’re going back to the cabin,” I bit out. “And when we get there, you’re calling Rico, and I want to hear from his own fucking mouth that you won’t owe him shit for this.”