Sinful Like Us (Like Us, #5)

by Krista Ritchie

“You’re a Cobalt.”

I love that.

Thatcher knew the names of all my cats when he wasn’t even on my detail.

“Jane.” He says my name with intensity. “What’s wrong?” “Your number three.” His shoulder muscles pull taut. “You wrote: do not touch me under any circumstance.” I sit pin straight. “It’s called a preference list. I prefer that Tony doesn’t touch me.” I cringe picturing his hands even hovering near my body. “He’s your bodyguard, honey.” “I don’t know him.”

I wanna cry.

“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.” Holy fuck.

HAHAHAHA!!!

“You remind me of someone.”

Is that someone Ryke?

“Haven’t the Cobalt brothers been icing you out?” “Like a fucking arctic wind.”

Damn.

“Your tattoo,” I whisper to Thatcher. “It’s on his ass,” Banks says. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that’s right—my boyfriend has a tattoo on his ass.

The door whips open, and I hear commotion outside like the bar patrons are loitering. They yell at whoever comes through. Instantly, I recognize the chestnut-haired, blue-eyed bodyguard. A plastic bag is hooked on his elbow. “Suck my dick!” Donnelly shouts at the crowds, then shuts them out with the kick of the door.

Why is this book so funny rn? Lol.

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.

NO WAY!

Jane screeches her chair forward. “I request a modification.” She folds her arms on the table. “I’d like it to be called: What Would We Do for Each Other?” She wants in.

We return to the mats where the meeting is taking place, and the team quiets and zeroes in on my brother’s swollen mouth. Sinclair grimaces. “Which one of you shit-tickets hit him?” “I fell, sir,” Banks lies.

Shit-tickets is crazy. HAHAHA!

I’ve seen Xander at some of the lowest points. I’ve tried to pull him up. I remember him at eleven. How he couldn’t get out of bed one morning. He was crying, sobbing, and could barely breathe as he said, “I don’t want to be here.”

I've been stabbed right in the heart reading this.

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.

I love that!

I press my other palm to the back of her head, whispering against her ear, “I have you, honey.” She eases into me.

Oscar uses comms, his voice in my ear. “I’m taking a piss. Don’t let Beckett hang around my baby sister.”

HAHAHA!

“You could’ve made that a little happier, Jack,” Farrow teases. “Yeah.” Akara smiles. “Way to go, Jack.” “What were you thinkin’, Jack,” Donnelly pipes in. “Dammit, Jack,” Quinn sighs. “Yeah, fuck you, Highland,” Oscar cuts in playfully.

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.

I answer on the last ring. “Dad?” He greets, “Mon coeur.” My heart. Hearing his voice causes a small wave of homesickness. There’s no one like my dad, and I love him very much so.

and I never imagined my firstborn daughter would date a man like Ryke Meadows.” He sounds a little bothered by this fact, though I know he cares deeply for Uncle Ryke.

I reach for the list in my pocket and try to focus on the task at hand. Not on the fact that I’m standing next to my ex-boyfriend.