Jonah (Chicago Blaze 7) - Page 42

“You think?” I look over at her.

“I know she would.”

“She’s nothing like Lily.”

“And that’s okay,” my mom says. “I think it might even be good. You and Lily had something special, but you can have something else with Renee that can also be special, in its own way.”

I sigh heavily. “I feel so damn guilty sometimes. I promised to love Lily forever, and it feels like I’m betraying her.”

“Oh, Jonah. You can love her and still move on and love Renee, too. Lily would want that for you.”

“Sometimes I think that, but sometimes…”

“Guilt creeps in,” my mom finishes.

“Yeah.”

She wraps her arms around herself to block out the chill in the air, saying, “Lily has been gone for three years now. I loved her very much, but I don’t feel guilty welcoming Renee and opening my heart to her, too. You once told me that playing pro hockey is a privilege, and you never want to take it for granted. Love is a privilege, too. It doesn’t come knocking every day.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

She stands up and says, “Come back in, honey. Let me enjoy seeing my baby happy again. I’ve been waiting for it a long time.”

I stand up and join her, saying, “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I have to say, I thought I knew you so well, but I never imagined you wanting to be called pookie.”

Laughing, I say, “Well, Rey brings out my soft side, I guess.”

“Rey? I thought her name was Renee.”

Shit.

“It is, I just call her Rey for short sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“Did you make pecan pie?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Of course I did.”

“Perfect.”

Logan runs past us with Julia on his back as soon as we get in the house, both of them yelling like banshees. My mom stopped asking about grandkids after I told my parents that Lily and I were struggling with infertility. And Logan’s not getting married anytime soon, he likes his freedom too much.

I figured kids weren’t in the cards for me after Lily died. I thought the same about remarrying, or even loving a woman again. But maybe, I realize as I walk into the kitchen and see Rey grinning at my Aunt Jackie, I was wrong.Chapter EighteenJonah

Darren Shields is a fucking creep.

It’s all I can do to keep my expression neutral as he touches Rey again—this time putting his arm around her waist to hug her close to him as they both laugh about something he just said.

It wasn’t even funny. And I can tell from the fire in Rey’s eyes that she wants to punch Shields in the face as much as I do.

I’m imagining how great that would feel when he steps away from Rey and says to me, “Hey Jonah, another drink?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He pastes on that slimy grin of his and says, “My plan is to get enough bourbon in you that you don’t notice if Tori gets in bed with you tonight and Renee ends up in my bed.”

I laugh, but only because I have to. Rey’s giggling like it’s the funniest fucking thing she’s ever heard. Shields’s girlfriend Tori, who looks maybe twenty and is at least two decades younger than him, just stands there smiling and looking compliant.

His nose would make a satisfying crunch beneath my fist if I could just get in one hit. Just one, that’s all I’d need to knock that cocksucker flat on his ass.

“How are you, baby?” Rey asks, coming over to sit next to me on an outdoor loveseat on the deck of Shields’s massive beach house.

“I’m hanging out in paradise with you,” I say, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I couldn’t be better.”

Shields may be an asshole, but he’s a very rich one. His ultra-modern beach house has to be at least 10,000 square feet, with multiple decks showcasing the million-dollar ocean view. We arrived yesterday and spent the evening partying on a yacht owned by one of his friends, and tonight he’s hosting more friends for a luau-style party.

He ought to be the pig getting roasted on a spit tonight, but I have to remember that his day is coming. The more I help Rey sell her cover story and get closer to him, the better her chances of putting him behind bars. No one has ever deserved a warm welcome from his fellow inmates more than this douchebag.

A few minutes later, Shields’s housekeeper comes out with a tray of fresh drinks and a plate of snacks. Her hair is in disarray and he’s looking extra satisfied with himself, so I’m guessing he uses her for more than just food and drinks.

Of course the bourbon is top shelf, and it goes down easy. I figure if I have to pretend to like the fucker, I’m gonna drink as much of his expensive bourbon as I can while I’m here.

Tags: Brenda Rothert Chicago Blaze Romance
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