Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
She was right, but still I pointed out, “It doesn’t mean you can’t be unhappy with your life.”
“No. But maybe it means I can be happy with what I have, even if I’m a little unhappy about what I don’t have. You can be happy with what you have, Captain, even if you’re feeling a little lost right now.”
I considered all I’d seen during my time in the military. “You’re right. Perspective is key.”
“I don’t mean to sound all preachy and self-righteous. Perspective helps me cope, that’s all.”
“No, you don’t sound preachy and self-righteous.” I gazed down at her, watching the breeze blow strands of pink hair back from her pretty face. “I have the most interesting conversations with you.”
She looked at me, those blue eyes bright with humor. “You mean intensely deep, heavy conversations entirely out of proportion to the length of time we’ve known each other?”
I chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with getting a little deep, getting a little philosophical. You’re empathetic and wise, Hallie. I enjoy talking with you.”
A little flush brightened her cheeks. “I think you’re the only person in my life who has ever called me wise.”
“Then I guess most people in your life haven’t taken the time to truly know you.”
She bit her lower lip as if to contain her pleased grin. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away before I did something stupid, like kiss the hell out of her. Hallie Goodman remained off-limits romantically while my future was still up in the air . . . and definitely while she remained ignorant to the fact that I’d watched the video diaries she’d made.
* * *
Hours had passed since our walk on the beach, and Richelle had talked Hallie into staying for dinner too.
It was dark out, the night air cool as the sea breeze blew into the dining room from an open window. Aunt Richelle had cooked, and we’d spent the evening talking nonstop. My aunt had shared stories about me as a kid that she clearly found adorable. I didn’t embarrass easily, and I enjoyed the camaraderie between her and Hallie. I’d never seen her like that with any of my girlfriends. Definitely not with Darcy.
And Hallie wasn’t even my girl.
“Shouldn’t we get back to Brooklyn?” Hallie suddenly asked, her eyes bright with alcohol. Aunt Richelle kept topping up her wineglass and Hallie hadn’t seemed to notice.
“Oh, you can’t. Chris has had one too many beers, and you’ve had too much wine. You’ll have to stay,” Richelle insisted.
“I couldn’t intrude like that.” Hallie waved off the invitation.
“Don’t be silly. I keep clean extra pj’s. There are even unopened toothbrushes in the guest bath.”
At Hallie’s uncertainty, I said, “I have had too much to drink. You okay if we stay?”
“Uh, sure, if it’s really all right.”
“Absolutely.” Aunt Richelle suddenly yawned. “In fact, I’m a little too wined up myself. I think I’ll head to bed. Chris, you can show Hallie to her room, right?”
I knew that twinkle in my aunt’s eye. She was matchmaking. Under her own goddamn roof. I smirked at her antics. “Sure.”
She winked at me. “Night, kiddos.”
“Night!” Hallie called after her. “And thanks for dinner!”
Aunt Richelle threw a wave over her shoulder and disappeared out of the room, Bandit hurrying after her.
Hallie turned back to me. “That was an abrupt departure.”
I laughed. “That’s Aunt Richelle.”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed as she stared at me. Something I didn’t understand flickered across her expression, and she looked away. “I guess I better hit the hay, then.”
“I’ll show you the way.”
As we walked out of the room, I raised my arm to rest my hand on her back and then thought better of it. I was a little buzzed. She was definitely buzzed. And I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to keep things purely platonic between us. Instead I kept a little distance between us, heading upstairs first.
“Is this your mom?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Hallie had stopped midway up to stare at the photos on the wall.
Returning to her side, I looked at the photo she studied. It was one of me, Miguel, and Mom. I was about eight or nine, and it was taken in the backyard of our house in Bedford, her arms wrapped around me, her head thrown back in laughter. I clutched her arms, grinning at the camera. Miguel leaned into Mom’s side, laughing too. Aunt Richelle had probably said something hilarious. It was a great photo and one of my favorites.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, my throat a little tight.
“She was beautiful.” Hallie looked around at the other photos. “You all are. Is this Miguel?” She gestured to a photo of him in his uniform upon his graduation from the academy. He was only twenty-two.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Hallie glanced up at me. “You look like him.”