Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Because my sister is utter perfection in my eyes.
I gather Zac up in my arms after Posey takes the bags. I press a kiss to her temple, and she hugs my side. I don’t release her for a moment, just letting her steal some of the strength that sometimes I don’t feel. She can have it all if it’ll make her feel better. I kiss her once more and ask, “How you doing?”
“Better now,” she admits, patting my chest.
We share a smile, and then I follow her in. As the door shuts behind me, I’m surprised that I’m able to move when my eyes meet a pair of gray ones that will forever be seared in my brain. I’m not an artist, but I swear I could draw Emery’s eyes. I would get every shade of gray right, the shape of her eyes, the way her lashes flutter along her smooth skin. But mostly, how her pupils dilate with heat whenever they set on me. I could put it on paper, I know I could, because no matter what, her eyes are a part of me.
I swallow as I hold her gaze. “Rental?” I ask, hooking my thumb behind me.
She feigns hurt, chuckling as she gives me an indignant look. “As if. That’s my baby, Black Beauty.”
I scrunch up my face as Posey giggles. “My neighborhood chat has been on fire since she pulled up. They think a movie star is here.”
I can’t look at my sister because I’m still spearing Emery’s eyes with mine. “You can afford a car like that?”
She gives me an eye roll. “Don’t play. You know how much money gets deposited in your account every month.”
EMQUINNY.
A business that was born from a late night in bed with her hot body pressed to mine. I didn’t think she’d do anything with my idea—well, really, our idea. As soon as I mentioned how it would help law enforcement to have a second set of eyes, she ran with it. She made something out of a silly idea and named it after us. She insisted on including me, even though I told her it was her baby, not mine.
I think it hurt her when I said that, but Emery doesn’t show hurt; she just does what she wants. So, she included my name, and each month, I get a deposit in my account for my portion of the profits. I wish I could say I gave her my banking information, but I’m pretty sure she hacked in to get it. Emery Brooks isn’t just dangerous to me. She’s dangerous to the world.
“Sure, but I don’t have enough for a Bugatti,” I say, trying to sound playful, but it comes out sharper than I intended.
She shrugs. “Means you aren’t doing something right.”
I scoff, unable to fight the grin pulling at my lips. “How so?”
“You chose the wrong career path.”
I chuckle with no humor because I know what she’s really saying.
I should have chosen her.
But I didn’t want her business. I wanted her, her heart, and I wasn’t enough for her.
“So, can I drive it?”
She leans back on the sofa, crossing her legs and giving me one hell of a view of her thighs. I force my eyes to stay on hers as she purses her lips. “But you’re so very engaged. Will your fiancée be okay with you driving your dream car, which is owned by your dream girl?”
There is a lot to unpack in that comment, but I’m not surprised one bit by it. She says the word fiancée like it’s the most disgusting thing in the world, and fuck, if she isn’t cute when she does it. But the last part, about my dream car and girl, yeah, she’s got that totally right. If I had my way, I’d fuck her on that car. Until neither of us remembers any fiancées or the past.
Posey snickers beside me, and I shoot her a dark look as she coughs, trying to hide her laughter. Emery stands, and I notice she’s changed into a flowy little blue dress that flirts along her creamy thighs. The bodice is tight, her breasts on display and leaving me drooling, just as her Bugatti did. She has her wild hair up in a high bun, and she’s stunning.
Which is nothing fucking new.
She sends me a wicked little grin, knowing she’s rendered me speechless, before she looks over at my sister. “Let me help, Posey,” she says as she takes some of the bags, and they both disappear to the kitchen. I almost forget I am holding my nephew while I watch Emery’s ass sway from side to side, until he captures my face in his tiny little hands. I look deep into his green eyes, and he presses his head to mine.
As if I need the strength of a kid.