Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
And I swear the goddman moon-eyes my brother sent her as she walked away made a smile tug at my lips.
For all the shit he gave me about Cammie, it looked like he also found himself preoccupied with a woman while on the job.
“So you guys are heading back,” Traveler said, tone oddly robotic for her as she moved behind the counter.
“Seems like the future is in Navesink Bank,” Cammie said, giving her a sad smile. “I’m going to miss absolutely nothing about this area but your coffee and you.”
“I’m going to miss you too. I mean not so much the worrying sick about you getting kidnapped part, but you in general.”
“You can come visit. See the beach,” Cammie said, then smiled when she looked down at her pale skin. “From under the protection of a big beach umbrella, of course,” Cammie told her.
“I might take you up on that. I think it is necessary at some point in my life to experience a big, loud, mafia dinner. When are you guys heading out?”
“As soon as Nicky finishes collecting his stuff from his apartment,” Cammie told her.
We’d already gone to grab the cash she’d been keeping a secret since Cody.
We’d had a long talk about it, too. Because that much cash was impossible to put in the bank.
Ultimately, she’d decided to buy a house just outside of Navesink Bank where Nicky was going to settle and work at figuring out his future. Then she would put a chunk in several safety deposit boxes, even though she knew the risks that came with that.
Eventually, she was going to open a business when she figured out what she wanted to do. That way, she always had something legit, and she could slowly but surely fold in the dirty cash with the clean money from that.
Aside from that, there were no real plans.
She just wanted to do all the shit she hadn’t been allowed to by herself.
She wanted to shop and go out to eat. She wanted to walk around a park and go online and cook her own meals.
She just wanted to live.
And I was planning on being right by her side while she did that.
I wouldn’t pretend to fully understand what had grown between us, why it had been her, at what moment it turned into something serious for me. What I did understand, though, was the panic I’d felt when I’d realized she was gone, and the relief I’d felt when I knew she was safe, yeah, it felt a fuckuva lot the way I would have felt if it was family.
Sure, it was a different kind, but love was love. When you felt it, you knew it.
And even though it was new to me in a relationship way, there didn’t seem to be any reason to try to fight against it.
Nino was right.
When you found the right woman, you put a ring on her finger and came home to her every night.
It was a little early for rings.
But I was looking forward to coming home to her at night.
Only a few hours later, we were parked outside of my house, and I was watching Cammie for her reaction.
I’d never worried what someone thought of my house before, but I was worried about what she thought.
Was it too modern for her taste? Did she like ornate Victorians with their wrap-around porches, gabled roofs, turrets, and intricately carved wood features?
“I have a question,” she said after the longest pause ever.
“Yeah?”
“You’re a… sharp shooter, right?”
“For lack of a better term, sure,” I agreed.
“This doesn’t freak you out?” she asked, waving at the house.
“What doesn’t freak me out?”
“All the windows. People could see right in, right?”
“No. The glass is mirrored. During the day, all you can see is a reflection of what is going on outside. At night, the blinds are programmed to come down just before sunset. They’re between the glass panes.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding. “Well, in that case, I love it,” she said, smiling over at me. “It must be nice to have those views all the time.
“You don’t have to say that just because it’s mine,” I assured her.
“I wouldn’t. I mean, I totally would. Because who would be that much of an asshole? But, no, I really like it. It really suits you.”
That had been why I picked it.
It was a two-story structure made out of a lot of glass with black metal beams and gray stones all in sharp, crisp lines. Nothing curved, nothing soft about it.
There were balconies off the back of the house that overlooked the swimming pool and the underused backyard that had been a priority because I always knew that I would someday want kids, and they would need a place to play.
“Want to see the inside?” I asked, cutting off the engine.
“Only if you give me a tour like I am going to buy the place,” she qualified.