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“We’re still kerosene.” Flammable. Combustible. I smile. “Sounds disastrously right.”
“I’ve only been living here for less than an hour, sir.” Connor doesn’t even pause. “You’ve been sleeping with her for much longer than an hour.”
I’m head-deep, un-fucking-believably in love with this girl, and I would do anything for her.
Do not fall into his lap like a bird without wings, Jane. You’re born from lions.
“I was born right where you’re sitting,”
“You owe me nothing for what I did. If you’d rather not be touched, I’d rather not touch you, Jane.” I love him.
“Murder with the Cobalt fam,” Donnelly says through a mouthful of cheesecake. “Those who slay together, stay together.”
First come the bodyguards. I count five. And then five famous faces bring up the rear. Charlie, Beckett, Eliot, Tom, and Ben. Every single one of my brothers. They’re all here, and they’re far too fixated on Thatcher like he’s tonight’s five-course meal.
And Charlie—everyone thinks he has no soul but his is just the darkest, deepest of them all.
“Did you hear that, brothers? Thatcher, here, was respectfully fucking our sister.”
I cover her mouth with my hand. What I do for love and pussy.
Donnelly inked every single one of Beckett’s tattoos, and all are flowers from roses to daisies to lilies and poppies, as homage to our mom and aunts.
Unholy… Fuck. In the darkened corner of the pub, Luna Hale is dirty-dancing with Donnelly. The kind of sloppy dancing you’d see at closing times from trashed guys and girls.
But her and him—they’re completely sober.
He cups her ass with two hands, holding her like I’m holding Jane, only she bounces on his lap to the beat of the music, and ...
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Aunt Daisy has taught me to use my voice, even if the world says stay quiet. Aunt Lily has taught me fierce courage, even on days when you feel lesser than. And Rose Calloway Cobalt, my mom—she’s taught me how to walk into a room full of men and never back down.
“Did you just pick an arbitrary time frame?” I ask. “Why not seven or eight hours from now?” “Because I think it’ll take about three hours for a helicopter to arrive.”
While Maximoff jogs past, Farrow gives him a blatant once-over, and we all watch Maximoff trip on a rug. Everyone laughs, and my lip begins to lift. “Jesus Christ,” Maximoff curses. “You didn’t see that.” “I definitely did,” Farrow teases.
I’m Thatcher Moretti, bitch.
“I don’t need a career to be a smart woman.” I go on. “I don’t need a job to be talented. I am both smart and possess talent, and the love that I give is just as important as the fashion empire my mom built. I am enough just as I am.”
“I walked in on Paul Donnelly giving Luna great head—the great was her assessment, though from my vantage it did look very pleasing…”
“Shh, Charlie.” Jane puts a finger to her lips. “We’re trying not to wake him.” She’s warning her brother. Farrow is glaring at him to back off. I’m about to stand up and guide him away. “I can help with that.” Charlie pats the hardback on his palm, and then he hurls the book at Maximoff’s head.
Truth: 9 times out of 10, Uncle Loren will find a way to either pull Lily away or become a part of the PJ party. He might also be the biggest gossip queen of us all, so I don’t even mind the addition.
“I need you. I need you like the air I breathe, and I want you like ground beneath my feet. I’m not afraid—I’m not afraid, not even a little. You are the man who has respected all of who I am and protected every little piece of me.”
breath. “Mr. Moretti, will you spend the rest of your life with me?” His mouth breaks apart. He looks stunned. “I’m asking you to marry me,” I clarify. He smiles. Ladies and gentlemen, a full-blown smile that overtakes his face.
“Congratulations. Some of us still hate you. Some of us like you. Others don’t give a shit. And yet, you’re still here.”
