Tough Love (The Shakedown Series Book 3) by Elizabeth Safleur

Author:Elizabeth Safleur [SaFleur, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949076219
Publisher: Elizabeth SaFleur LLC
Published: 2021-05-31T18:30:00+00:00

20

“Where would you like to go?” Carragh spun his hand on the wheel of his car.

“I wish I knew.” Her face had relaxed, and her fingers lay still on her lap.

They’d walked out of the funeral home, hand in hand past Max, the bulldog bodyguard, and through the door. Then again past Declan, her sisters, and Cherry, the overprotective drag queen, to Carragh’s car. Their mouths were dropped open, and their protests came in a rush.

She told him under her breath, “Let’s just go.” She then raised her phone at them. “I’ll call you.”

“I’ll take care of her.” He tried to sound reassuring, instead earning glowers from all but Declan. His face remained still as stone.

Luna remained silent the entire drive—except for her damned phone, which pinged like gunfire was going off inside of it. She finally huffed and silenced it.

The highway soon gave way to his familiar tree-lined street. She didn’t seem to care where she was, her eyes glazed and staring out the window.

He pulled into his drive and jumped out quickly. Frank, his house man, jogged down the steps to greet them.

“I’ve got this.” Carragh circled to her door, opened it. “Luna, this is Frank. He keeps me organized.”

The man nodded once in her direction. “Bags?”

“Hi, and no.” She shook her head.

Frank thought she was moving in? Carragh didn’t hate the idea, but right now she just needed to be somewhere where she could forget things for a bit.

As soon as she stepped into his kitchen, what she thought reflected in her eyes. Carragh’s house was nothing as she’d likely envisioned.

His tastes were eclectic—and all his own. She stepped over to the floor-to-ceiling windows in black steel frames overlooking his backyard blooming with hundreds of daffodils, purple irises, and red and yellow tulips. He rather enjoyed the color.

“Frank, get us some coffee, will you?” he asked the man. “Or perhaps you’d prefer tea, Luna? Sparkling water?”

She smiled over at him. “Water would be great.”

“With both lemon and lime,” he directed.

Carragh led her down a hallway into his living room. Now that he looked at the room, lined with bookshelves, peppered with art deco statues that stood on pedestals, and modern furniture, he could see her here. They’d spend their weekends listening to music, talking…

“I like that.” She pointed to an Erté bronze of a woman holding a peacock feather.

“The 1920s were a special time.”

“Full of gangsters.” She winked at him.

“You’re a little obsessed with gangsters.”

“Only one.”

A male throat cleared. Frank set a cup of coffee and her sparkling water on a small tray table. “Sir, I’m heading out for the evening. Do you need anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” He didn’t take his eyes off the woman who just admitted she might be obsessed with him.

He gestured for her to sit on the couch. “You should let your sisters know where you are.”

“You’d let me tell them?”

“Of course.”

She pulled out her phone and tapped on it, then put her phone face down on the glass coffee table. Probably not wanting to see the barrage of protests coming back in return.

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