It's About Time (Blossom Peak #4)(98)

I pull the valve cap from my pocket that I realized was missing about an hour ago and walk over to the front driver’s side tire, screwing it back in place. “The tire valve cap.”

Standing from the stool, he walks over to me. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready for champagne?”

I n od. “Absolutely.”

Grinning, he pops the cork, the sharp crack echoing through the garage. Handing me the bottle, he says with a laugh, “I realized after I got here that I don’t have any glasses.”

Shrugging, I take the bottle from him and lift it to my lips, taking a swig. Then I flash him the biggest smile I can muster. “I did it!”

Yanking me into his chest, he pulls the bottle from my hand and lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me so intensely that my knees nearly buckle. “Yes, you fucking did, Dilynne. And now we’re gonna celebrate.” Taking a swig from the bottle himself, he hands it back to me before retrieving his phone from his pocket, clicking around on the screen, and then the sounds of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” come from the speaker. “Now, I’ve been a very good boy, don’t you think?”

Laughing, I say, “Oh! So this is why you stuck around? You wanted to know if Steven was telling the truth?”

He pushes the bottle toward me again as I take it from his hands. “It might have made the past two hours more entertaining, envisioning what this moment would be like.” Setting his phone on the top of my toolbox, he leans up against it, crossing his arms over his chest, that smirk of his in full effect.

“And what if I told you that I found the missing tire cap an hour ago?”

His smile falls. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

His eyes narrow. “You little menace.”

Unhooking the strap on my overalls, I let them fall before repeating the motion to the other side and then reach up and untie my bandana and let my hair fall down. “Don’t play the game if you can’t handle being outsmarted.”

The heat in his eyes burns right through me, all the way down to the juncture between my thighs. “I can handle it, especially because no matter what game we’re playing, you’re the one I want to be playing it with.”

My mouth falls open slightly. “Elliot…”

He rushes over to me, crashing his mouth to mine, and then hoists me up on top of my tool cart, and with all the tension already thrumming between us, we’re both coming undone in record time.





Chapter 27





Elliot



Putting the Pieces Together


“Hit me.” Fletcher slaps the table as Rhonan flips over another card, making his hand total twenty-one. “Hell yeah!”

“Nice,” I say before debating what I’m going to do with my hand. I’ve currently got fifteen in front of me, and even though I know the chances of busting are high, my gut tells me to take the hit. “All right, Rhonan. Be nice and give me a six, will ya?”

Rhonan smirks as he flips over my card and I practically leap out of my chair when the six of spades is revealed. “Fuck yes!”

Henley laughs on my left. “You’re acting like we’re actually betting real money tonight.”

“Hey, a win is a win.” Reaching out in front of me, I slide the chips I won into my stack as Henley chooses to stay with his hand, beating the dealer as Rhonan busts.

“ So, not to put a damper on the high of winning, but…” Rhonan slides the deck of cards to the side and pulls out a few folded papers from his back pocket, tossing it onto the table in front of me. “My private investigator came through a little early.”

My eyes land on the papers. “No shit.”

“Yeah, and I haven’t looked at them, just so you know. But if you want to, I figured we could help you put all of the pieces of your problem together.”

My gaze drifts around the table at my three best friends. “The only thing I ask is that no matter how pissed off I’m about to get, you don’t let me contemplate murder or harm to anyone because I work in the legal system, and the last thing I want to do is see the inside of a prison.”

Fletcher nods. “Will do.”

Sighing, I reach for the papers, unfold them, and lay them out flat as my eyes drift over the pages, one by one. There are so many numbers, addresses, and bank statements, page after page that it starts to become overwhelming, until I arrive at the copy of my grandfather’s will—the one I saw in my father’s office.

“The will,” I say out loud, pulling the paper from the stack and bringing it closer to my face as my eyes scan the words. It’s the beneficiary part that catches my eye. “Holy shit.”

“What does it say?” Rhonan asks, leaning forward in his chair.

When I lift my eyes and glance around to my friends, it takes me a minute to form words. “My grandfather left me an inheritance that I knew nothing about.”

“Shit. Really?” Henley asks.

“Yup.” Tossing the paper onto the table so that they can all see it for themselves, I continue, “But I don’t stand to inherit it until I’m married.”

Silence descends upon the four of us.

“ Wait.” Fletcher finally speaks. “You never knew about this?”