“How much is your payment, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand, give or take. Selling the cabin might only get us a bit more than half of that, but it’s something. The four of us have been living on shoestring budgets for months since we found out that other shop was coming to town.”
“Which is exactly why you need to stop refusing my money.”
He laughs and nods to my purse. “Unless you’re Mary Poppins and there’s an endless well of cash in there, it won’t do much good.”
I close my eyes and swallow. Because…dang… he has no idea.
I put a hand on his back, trying to be a soothing presence for him. It’s clear the thought of selling this place is distressing. “Don’t go putting a for sale sign out just yet.”
He looks into my eyes. “Not a chance. Not as long as you’re here. But later… yeah, it might have to happen.” He closes his eyes. “Damn it.”
“Carter, you should go. It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, okay.” He stands hesitantly.
“We’ll be fine. Seriously. I promise to call if I need anything. But I won’t. You’ve thought of everything. Thank you.”
He pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug. “Promise you’ll be here when I get back. Promise you won’t go running off to Florida. Swear to me you’ll tell me before you—”
I put my finger to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”
He nips my finger then smiles deviously. “Good. Because you see that fire over there? The next time I’m here, I’m going to make love to you in front of it.”
My insides melt like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. But then I look at the door my daughter is sleeping behind and know it can’t happen.
He must read my mind. “You just leave that to me. Believe me—it’s going to happen.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “That’s one promise I intend to keep no matter what.” He cups my chin. “Until then…”
His lips brush against mine. Softly at first, then more demanding. And just like when he kissed me before leaving his house, I get lost in his lips. His touch. His presence.Him.
And I know I’ll be keeping the promise I made as well. The one about not leaving. Because I also thought of a lot of things on the way here. Mostly about how I can no longer imagine a life without him in it.
And if that’s a life I want, I may have to make sacrifices. Hard decisions. But maybe, just maybe, I’m willing to give up everything for the man who asks for nothing.
Chapter Thirty-three
Carter
Cyrus freaking Kelly.
I hate the words. I hate the man. His name rolls around in my head, an unwanted guest taking up my every thought as I mindlessly work on an old Nissan. He was at my house. My sanctuary. He was so close to finding her. What would he have done had he seen her? Various scenarios play out in my head, none of which calm my growing anxiety. I have to do something. But without knowing the whole story, what can I really do?
Someone gets my attention, waving from the other side of the service bay window.
I wipe my hands on a rag and head through the door since nobody is manning the counter at the moment.
Jonah Calloway may be the only Calloway who would be caught dead in a Cruz-owned business. Maybe it’s because his wife, Heather, was once married to a McQuaid. He, unlike most of the Calloways, doesn’t take sides in the age-old family rivalry.
“Hey, Jonah,” I say. “How’s your Friday going?”
“It’d be going a whole lot better if my check engine light weren’t on. Again.”
I shake my head. Jonah’s wife got millions when she divorced Robert McQuaid, yet Jonah still drives an eight-year-old car, runs a security business that, like this place, probably does little more than break even, and—Wait… he owns a security business. This can’t be a coincidence.
I grab the diagnostic scanner. “Let’s go check it out.”
On the way to his car, he glances around. “How’s business? I saw the new place the other day.”
