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“I won't let you suffer, Celeste,” I say sincerely, wanting to ease her burden. “I’ll give you the money to help your brother, but promise me you won’t go back to Sinful Sirens.”
“Thank you. I won’t go back to that place, but I will pay you back for the loan,” she says softly.
“The money is a gift. You don’t need to repay me. But there's one condition,” I say, wiping away a tear with my thumb.
She sniffs and nods. “Anything.”
“I need something from you. A favor.”
Her eyes meet mine in anticipation, and she lifts her chin. “Name your price.”
Her sassy quip makes me throw back my head and erupt into laughter. “You're one in a billion, you know that?”
She quirks her brow and clucks her tongue in response. “Likewise, big guy,” she purrs.
“I'll take care of you, honey. You'll never want for anything again.”
A tiny smirk plays at the corner of her mouth as her eyes meet mine. “Anything?”
“Yep. I'll give you anything you want.”
“Teach me to be an investigator?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I've got a taste for it.”
The idea of putting her in danger stirs mixed emotions. “I'll think about it.”
“Is there anything I can do to convince you to change your mind?”
Celeste gives me a lascivious look and slowly licks her lips, causing a rush of desire to course through my veins.
Without thinking twice, I blurt out, “Yes. But not here, definitely not here. This place is far too---”
“Eoww! Is that a mouse?” she shrieks, pointing to a creature scurrying along the back wall.
“It could be a roach,” I reply dryly as Celeste jumps onto the bed in fright.
“Come on, precious. I'm taking you home.”
CHAPTER 12 Epilogue 1
Celeste
On tournament day, we arrive at the golf course and join the other Windy Peak estate community members. Meeting familiar and unfamiliar faces fills me with nervousness and excitement, but all eyes are on Atlas. People are fascinated yet intimidated by Atlas’s impressive physique. They gawk but don’t interact with him.
This tournament would have been uncomfortable for him if it happened a few weeks ago. He’s changed so much since we met, and where I was concerned, the attention would be annoying, it isn't. Atlas is calm and stoic, taking everything in his stride. Nothing fazes him.
Atlas isn’t wearing his usual suit and looks unbelievably sexy in his golfing outfit. He’s wearing a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, a silver watch on his wrist accenting the girth of his muscular forearms.
His muscular physique makes me weak in the knees. Even more distracting, though, is the primal intensity peering out from beneath his heavy brow. But no one else sees it because he only has eyes for me.
With all the social introductions out of the way, and the host's instructions ringing in our ears, we head off toward the course.
As we approach the first tee, I turn to Atlas. “Thanks for doing this with me. I know it’s not your thing.”
The bright sun catches the beads of sweat on Atlas’ forehead. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “Anything for you. Let's keep moving.”
