Page 80 of Saved By My Buyers

“Good night, guys. I’d say don’t stay up too late, but I know better.”

“Does it count that I brought a cot?” Lorrie asks, grinning. It looks like this group is used to needling Jack, because he just rolls his eyes, leading us out.

Anything that brings us one step closer to keeping Dahlia is a win in my book.

Jack

I have plans for the girls, and I’ve been very cagey about telling them. Instead, I tell them to dress in comfortable clothes and to wear good walking shoes.

“Is this code for ‘wear pants’?” Bee asks, huffing in annoyance.

“No,” I laugh. “You can wear a dress.”

Dolly hides a smile as she disappears back into her room to get dressed. Bee and I have been sleeping in there because we are codependent and give no fucks.

I think my last one disappeared four years ago when she did. Waiting patiently, I fix the thin material of my deep-red henley tee, so my tattoos are visible. I have two spots on my right forearm that are free of ink, and one of the things we are going to do today is fix that.

It’s a warm day, so casual shorts and comfortable canvas shoes. These are perfectly broken in, and won’t give me blisters.

“Is this alright?” Dolly asks, walking back out of the room. I’m going to need to take her shopping soon, but I’ll wait until she’s living with me after tonight to do it. She’ll fight me either way, and she looks like my idea of a wet dream in whatever she wears.

Dolly’s outfit consists of a caramel-colored T-shirt that says ‘burnt out’ with a pair of black shorts that cover her long legs. The T-shirt is high necked, her breasts prominently featured.

I guess there was a bra in her bag, because she’s definitely wearing one today. Her curls are perfectly reactivated, and there are black converse shoes on her feet.

In short, she’s fucking perfect.

“You’re one of the reasons my pants never fit right,” I grunt, moving over to kiss her lips. “You look beautiful. I really just want to make sure you’re comfortable. We have some walking to do today.”

“Is that right?” Bee asks, coming out of the other bedroom. Smirking, I take in the twisted pink T-shirt that’s tied under her breasts and navy skirt with a high slit. It’s comfortable, and I know she won’t be sweating in it.

Her cute pink sneakers complete the outfit.

“Yeah, baby. Good thing you’re wearing your walking shoes,” I tease her. “Let’s get going.”

I love how both of them happily follow me, ready for whatever I have planned. Dolly is trying out her gray contacts I notice when I look closer, and I stare, suddenly wishing I could see her beautiful, deep caramel eyes.

Fuck, I’m a dumb sap. They were my idea, so I’ll just have to get used to it until I can deal with the Gareth situation.

I want to go to the mansion and kill him with my bare hands, but there are simply too many witnesses. I know I need to be smarter, despite my usual disdain for the law.

Once in the truck, I steer the vehicle out of the city. There’s a bag filled with snacks and candy, because I know how they both tend to get.

“Gummy bears,” Bee squeals, making me bark out a laugh.

“There’s licorice, potato chips, trail mix, and protein bars in there too,” I mention, knowing they both already ate breakfast. Dolly needs snacks throughout the day either way, and Bee has a sweet tooth that rivals Dolly’s.

The trip up to Ann Arbor is under an hour, and the girls chatter the whole way. I love every fucking second of it, letting their words and laughter wash over me. They’re funny, they have really spot on instincts about people and things they see, and they’re mine. Why wouldn’t I bask in everything about them?

Finding a spot to park downtown, I encourage them both to grab a bottle of water to walk with me. There’s a festival happening today with music and art about half a block from where we are, so that’s one of our stops.

Dolly gazes in awe at the artwork, reminding me that she used to enjoy drawing.

Does she still? She was so creative, but her mother pushed academics to the point that it wasn’t fun anymore. Dolly started hiding things about herself at a very young age, even from me.

Pushing away thoughts of my best friend’s funeral and the way I want to throttle him even now, I focus on the present. Dolly and Bee chat with an artist, a man whose painting is abstract, angry, and filled with emotion.

It’s easy to be drawn to it, because the rawness of it is haunting.

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