by Lexi Whitlow
I struggle out of bed and to the window, peering down at the street. Duncan leans on the closed driver’s side door, looking up at me from behind mirrored aviator sunglasses.
“Yeah, he’s here,” I say. “Not in the room, but here.”
“He has instructions to take you directly to the airport. There’s no time to be lost.”
“Very well.” I end the call, then look at the phone in my hand. The last time I got a call like that was when my father died six months ago. That ringtone makes my guts clench and my heart race. I don’t ever want to get a call like that again—it means everything is falling apart.
Something big is going down at home. Something—I know—to do with my brother and his bizarre behavior. That’s the only reason they’d call me. He’s the heir. I’m the spare. They’re never supposed to need me, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“Everything okay?”
I turn. Norah is sitting up, her knees pulled to her chest and the sheets drawn tight, covering her from shoulder to toes. Last night she was wide open, shameless. Now, in the mid-morning light, she’s the picture of demure—if slightly rumpled and paint-speckled—reserve.
In the new light of the day, I realize she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Game over.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say, reaching for my jeans and pulling them on, then searching for my shirt.
“Why?” she asks, confused. “I thought we’d go out for coffee… or…”
But I cut her off. “I’ve got to go.”
What I want is what she wants: I want to stay, have breakfast, hang out with her, get to know her. That’s never happened before—and it can’t happen now. It’s better to nip any expectations she might have in the bud.
Forty seconds later, I’m on the stairs headed down to the street and back into the over-bearing care of my patient, ever-loyal bodyguard, Duncan.
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About the Author
Lexi Whitlow is a small-town girl from Virginia. She spent her early years growing up between Virginia and North Carolina, playing in the dark rich dirt of Eastern North Carolina at her granddaddy’s farm. She’s a mom of a six-year-old boy and a seven-month-old girl. Life is hectic, but it sure is sweet.
She holds a master’s degree in English literature from the University of Virginia, and her mom is so proud she’s “using her degree.”
Lexi harbors a not-so-secret love for bad boys. She loves fighters, tough-as-nails cowboys, bikers, and criminals. Her husband is a scientist… but he has the heart of a bad boy for sure.
Find me on Facebook at facebook.com/lexiwhitlow and in my group Bad Boys Wanted.
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