Savage Love (Savage Trilogy #3) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,64
because I doubt she wants to hear my answer. Which would be to kill everyone that’s in our way if that’s what it takes to end this.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Savage
My alarm goes off and I grab my phone and silence it. Candace snuggles deeper into her pillow and murmurs, “Come back.”
I smile and lean over and kiss her neck, but I’m also checking my messages to find nothing from Kane. What the fuck? I pull the blanket more snuggly around Candace and walk into the bathroom and then the closet. Five minutes later, I’m dressed in cargo pants and a T-shirt with combat boots, ready to do whatever I have to do today to end this bullshit. Bullshit doesn’t get a lifespan. It gets an ending. I brush my teeth and then quietly sneak out of the bedroom to head downstairs. Once I’m there I dial Kane to get his voicemail, “What the fuck, Kane? Call me back.” I disconnect and make coffee because yes, it’s headed on two o’clock in the afternoon, but my baby likes her coffee all day long and my baby is getting her coffee.
By the time it’s brewing, I dial Kane again and leave a friendly message this time. “What the fuck, Kane? And I mean, what. The. Fuck?” I pour a cup of coffee and then dial Asher, before moving on to Adrian and Smith, looking for perspectives on all fronts, and they all align—they believe Alejandro left Texas. We all believe he’s coming here. I set the phone down and dribble my finger on the island, replaying what Tag said to me before he died, and considering the connecting dots of Tag and Pocher. They do connect, I decide, in ways my gut has been clamoring about but my mind just caught up to. Blake needs to be caught up, too.
I’m about to call Blake to confirm he’s on his way when Candace comes rushing down the stairs. Dressed in jeans and a pink sweater, her hair is in long, soft, natural waves.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Candace asks, hurrying across the room. “It’s almost two now. Isn’t Blake coming at two?” She pauses beside me, pushes to her toes and presents me her glossy pink mouth, which I happily kiss.
“You get cranky when you don’t sleep,” I remind her.
She scoffs. “I do not.” She eyes the coffee pot and her expression lightens. “You made coffee.”
I wiggle my brow. “And I went easy on the scoops.”
She smiles and darts for the pot, opening the overhead cabinet. “Rick, you have two cups if we count the one you’re drinking out of.”
I twist around to lean on the island and watch her. “We have two cups. I guess we better go shopping.”
“Yes. We do have to go shopping. And I need to get some work done. I’m committed to a project I haven’t finished. Once that’s done, I can go all contract work.”
“How are you feeling about that, baby?”
“Good actually.” She leans on the counter, facing me, cup in her hand, that ring finger of hers bare and begging for a ring—my ring. “I can take on passion projects now,” she continues. “I might make a little less at first, but ultimately, I’ll make more.”
I push off the island and step in front of her, lifting her hand around her cup to my lips and sipping. My eyes meet hers and heat simmers between us. The kind of heat that can bring a man to his knees, at least this man. “So much better when it’s from your cup with you holding that cup.”
She gives me a shy, sexy smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby. And you don’t need to worry about money. We have a shit ton and I mean a shit ton. We can travel the world for our architectural inspiration or work if you want. You always wanted to see the pyramids.”
“I do,” she says. “Have you?”
“Not intimately.”
“But you have.”
I stroke her cheek. “Don’t sound so disappointed. I saw a lot of things that would have been better with you. They will be better with you. And as a bonus for our travels, I already know how to tell someone to ‘fuck off’ in about seven languages. I can only speak three, and only two of those well, but ‘fuck off,’ I got that one down.”
She laughs and the doorbell rings. “That will be Blake. He’s on my approved list. Anyone who isn’t, can’t get up here unless the doorman calls us and clears the visitor.”