Chapter 23: Hendrix

Hendrix

Getting possessive much? No. Never. More like guarding an investment.

Her reason for doing this was school, and I’d pay for that without an argument. Books, housing, and tuition until she was done and graduated. Everything would be set up to look as if it were a donation/scholarship from my company to aid a deserving individual.

Grabbing the items needed, I walked back to the kitchen and served myself a cup of coffee and waited, sipping from my mug while the sun rose higher in the sky and the sound of feet padding in my direction carried through the apartment.

At nine a.m. sharp, Beau Carter stood in my kitchen looking like innocent sin. Barefoot, fresh-faced, and wearing an undershirt I’d taken off in my bathroom before heading out with Jax last night.

“Good morning,” she mumbled, toe digging into the floor. “Can I have some coffee before I go?”

“Have a seat.”