Logan (Carolina Reapers #4) by Samantha Whiskey

Author:Samantha Whiskey [Whiskey, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-27T05:00:00+00:00

11

Logan

“We’ve got most of the damaged shit out,” I told Cannon as our plane hit our cruising altitude of thirty-thousand feet. “But they didn’t give her any budget room to replace anything.”

“Damn.” He shook his head and closed his book, setting the hardback down on the table between our grouping of seats.

“Exactly. And she won’t let me pull the Reapers in to help her, either.”

The seat belt light pinged, and there was a general rustling in the cabin as our teammates started to move around.

“So why don’t you just donate an anonymous check? Problem solved,” he suggested.

“I thought about that. She’d immediately blame Connell since she knows he’s a Reaper, and knowing Delaney, she’d give the check back to him. It’s probably going to be a million dollars to get the wing recarpeted, reshelved, and restocked.” Turbulence jostled the aircraft, and more than one curse word came from behind us, accompanied by the sound of falling luggage.

“Articles may shift during the flight. Didn’t ye listen?” Connell laughed at whoever just got pelted with his own bag.

“What do you need a million for?” A blonde head peeked over Cannon’s shoulder.

“Hey, Sephie. What are you doing here?” I asked as she propped her elbows on the seat.

Cannon’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t move. He didn’t even look up at her.

“We’re partnering with the Predators for a charity event that supports education in rural areas, so Mr. Silas asked if I wouldn’t mind hitching a ride with you guys to chat with their team lead. Now what do you need the million for?” She slid out of her seat and moved so she was standing next to Cannon.

“The public library,” I answered.

“The one the hurricane damaged?” Her head tilted.

“That’s the one. The library didn’t give its chief librarian enough budget to get it back up and running.”

Turbulence struck again, and Persephone barely caught herself from falling.

“Would you please take a fucking seat?” Cannon growled at the tiny blonde.

“Is there really any reason for that language? And honestly, I’m just fine, thank you very much.” She smoothed the lines out on her pale blue sheath dress and shot Cannon a glare. “You know that’s the reason Josephine Blackstone left. She was the librarian when the hurricane hit, and she told my cousin Tempe—”

“You have a cousin named what?” Connell interrupted from across the aisle.

“Tempe,” she said it slowly, like he hadn’t caught it the first time. “It’s short for Temperance.”

“Typical rich person name,” Cannon snorted.

“You should talk, Cannon,” she shot back just as the turbulence threw her sideways—right into Cannon’s lap. “Ooooofph!”

He gripped her hips and set her on her feet like she might infect him with something. “First, let’s make it clear that I didn’t grow up with money. I just happen to have it now, and yes, there’s a difference. And second, for the love of Christ, take. A. Fucking. Seat.”

“Right. I’m sorry about that. Thank you for not dropping me on my rear.” Persephone said as she tucked her hair behind her ears and then slid into the seat next to mine—directly across from Cannon.

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