Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Julian
I read our text exchange again, smiling at the way she had no problem telling me exactly like it is. And yeah, she’s right; we’re nowhere near done.
Running my hand through my hair, I lean forward, elbows on my knees, trying to figure out how I went from being so adamant about this being my last job and to focus my attention on the work that is more palatable, to obsessing over this woman.
I’ve never been this guy, the one who’s head turns easily, getting caught up with a pretty face and a great body.
I shake my head. She’s more than that.
“Fucking hell,” I breathe out to myself. What the hell do I want to do next?
It was barely sunrise when I woke up with my dick still in my hand, in that same chair I got to watch her from.
She was sprawled out on her bed, looking like a fucking fantasy.
It took everything I had not to get into bed with her, but she had boundaries the night before, and I wasn’t going to push them.
I decided to take a beat, go back to the B if you’re here for anything other than the right reasons, leave. Stop by the bar, hedge your goodbyes, and let Wyn move on from wherever it is you followed her from.”
That isn’t going to happen. I lift my chin and sit taller.
The last thing I normally do is care what someone thinks about me, but Tommy seems like the closest thing to a dad in Wyn’s life, so I’ll treat him that way.
“I’m staying for the right reasons,” I tell him.
“Whatever your theories might be, just know I’d never hurt your niece.
And I’ll make sure no one else does either. ”
Clapping his hand on my shoulder, he smiles, shaking his head like I missed the punchline. “I’m glad to hear that. And it’s not Wyn who I’d be worried about getting hurt,” he says as he turns and moves toward the doors.
I crack a smile, because it’s not lost on me the threat that lingered in his words. As I look around at the bench and the few cases filled with tools, I’m more caught up in understanding the semi-permanence of what my dad had built here.