If she’d known what the next morning would bring, she might have pulled a Rip Van Winkle and juststayedasleep for the next twenty years. Instead, she’d woken up with a heart full of love and a head full of ridiculous ideas that maybe…just maybe, if she played her cards right, she could convince Fisher he didn’t want to Hugh Hefner his way through life. That what hereallywanted was to experience a big BKI love. Withher. Because they were so, so good together, and he had to see that, right?
What an idiot I turned out to be.
I warned you the loss of him might be worse than never having him to begin with,the voice taunted.
But it’s not,she argued back. She had no regrets about becoming his lover. She’d loved every moment of being with him and she’d learned so much about him and about herself.
However, her worry that things would get complicatedafterthey’d been together. Well,thathad turned out to be justified. Because Fisher was?—
Before she could finish her thought, movement on the security feed caught her eye. Her breath strangled in her throat as she watched the heavy wrought-iron gate roll open, revealing the sight of a white van as it pulled into the compound grounds.
Relief flooded her veins, momentarily washing away her heartache and worry.
They’re home!
My guys are home!
She smashed the button on the wall that activated the garage door. Snake had replaced the shot-up motor. And this new one was quieter than the original as it rolled back the metal panels.
The summer sun had baked the blacktop outside until it looked shiny and slick. The smell of new seal coat tunneled up her nose and left an acrid taste in her mouth. And the heat was nearly enough to steal her breath.
She didn’t care.
After two weeks of living in what had come to feel like a cave, she welcomed the intensity of the sun and the chemical smell of the blacktop. Since they’d removed the various window treatments they’d hung, she’d watched the dawn of each new day from her bedroom window, promising herself she’d never again take that view for granted.
“Are they home?” Ozzie called from the War Room. He was spinning his usual hair band playlist. Currently, Mötley Crüe was telling the girls tokickstart my heart.
“Ten-four!” She shouted. And, speaking of hearts, hers raced with anticipation as the van pulled up next to the factory building and Boss cut the engine.
It seemed to take forever for someone to open the sliding door. But it eventually rolled back to reveal Britt looking wan and weary. His entire left leg was encased in a blue cast.
“My god.” She rushed forward. “Hewitt called and said you broke your leg. But I didn’t realize how bad.”
“Femur,” Britt grunted as he accepted her help out of the vehicle.
“Throw your arm around me,” she told him. “I’ll help you inside.”
“How’s ’bout you let someone more Britt’s size do the heavy lifting?” Sam hopped out after Britt and took up a position on Britt’s other side.
Graham tapped her on the shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything. In fact, herarelysaid anything. She understood what he wanted her to do, though, simply from the look on his face.
Moving out of the way, she allowed Graham and Sam to haul Britt inside.
“What took you guys so long?” she asked Boss once he’d rounded the front of the van with three duffel bags in hand.
“Britt insisted we stop by Taco Bell on the way home.”
“Painkillers make me hungry for cheap, fast-food Mexican!” Britt called over his shoulder. “Think outside the bun, baby! Live mas!”
Boss chuckled. “Don’t mind him. He’s high on morphine.”
Hunter and Hewitt were at the back of the van, pulling out their go-bags. Fisher remained in the passenger seat, his phone in his hands and the screen lighting his face.
It was so good to see him and the butterflies he always managed to excite in her belly agreed. But she wondered if he was pretending to text in the hopes she’d wander off and he could avoid talking to her.
She hated the thought of that. Especially because she’d missed him like crazy.
Once again she racked her brain for what she’d done to change his mind and start acting like a bona fide jackass. And once again she came up with a big ol’ handful of nada.
