Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Both girls liked to sleep in, which was something I’d learned over the last month of living with them. Reed prattled on about snowfall as I glanced at the calendar. It was Halloween, which meant, holy shit, it really had been a month since I’d moved in with them.
Since I’d moved home.
A month of me managing to keep my hands to my damn self every time Callie smiled at me, or I heard her laugh, or she walked into the room, which was becoming…an issue.
“So, with the snow accumulations for base…” Reed continued, and I switched ears.
“We should be able to open next week,” I finished for him, knowing where the conversation was heading and hoping for it to get to a conclusion faster. I took the eggs off the stove as footsteps sounded upstairs.
Being home for a month hadn’t done anything to lessen my resentment of Reed. If anything, it just brought the shit I’d worked hard to compartmentalize roaring to the surface. The only saving grace was that Dad wasn’t due home for a couple of months.
That would put my restraint to the ultimate test. No amount of shares in Madigan was worth the price of my soul if he was still the same callous bastard he had been when I’d left. Not that I was sure I was even ready to give him a chance. Some sins were unforgivable.
“Exactly.” Reed cleared his throat. “So…how are bookings for November?”
I paused, looking out the kitchen window at the fresh powder that covered what was already a decent base. “We already have eleven trips booked between the fifteenth and the thirtieth. I didn’t want to offer anything sooner since I didn’t know if we’d be open.”
“Right.” An awkward pause followed. “I mean, that was the right decision to make.”
“Thanks for the approval.” I scoffed.
“West—”
“Look, is there any other reason you happened to call me on a Saturday? Because all of this is something you could have brought up yesterday, you know, when it was a workday.” I took out the plates and silverware.
“Damn, Weston.” Reed sighed. “No, there’s nothing else.”
I hung up and shoved my phone into my back pocket.
“Then fuck off, Reed,” I muttered to myself.
“Didn’t know it was that bad,” Callie said from behind me.
I whirled around and saw her standing on the other side of the kitchen island. Her hair was still mussed from sleep, and there was a little line down her face from the pillow. I could have stared at her for hours if not for the questioning look in her eyes. “I made eggs.”
“I noticed.” She walked around me, her pajama pants molded to the biteable curve of her ass. “Thank you. Want some coffee?”
Stop looking. You’re going to hell.
“No, thanks.”
“Why exactly should Reed fuck off?” she asked, leaning up on her toes to reach a fresh box of K-cups from the cabinet.
“Because he’s an asshole,” I answered, reaching over her to grab the box. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She took the box and turned to face me, our bodies brushing before I stepped back to give her some space. If anyone had asked me a couple of months ago, I never would have said that pajama pants and hoodies were the sexiest outfit on a woman, yet Callie was changing my mind every single morning.
Maybe it was because I wanted to peel everything off piece by piece.
“And why exactly is he an asshole?” She put her mug under the coffee maker and pressed start. The machine hissed.
There were a million reasons. Because he left. Because he got to leave. He took off for college and left me to handle fucking everything. He left me to take care of Mom, and then bury her. He left me to hold everything together, to pick up the pieces of Mom’s broken pottery Dad had smashed while he fell the fuck apart. He left me to raise Crew—scratch that—to contain Crew, since he’d been a freshman in high school and already a reckless adrenaline junkie.
Then he dared to swoop back in on breaks like he was God’s gift, just like he was doing now, moving home to Madigan last year and saving it from a corporate buyout. Perfect fucking Reed.
“Weston?” Callie peered up at me and something inside me cracked.
I wanted to tell her. The sensation was disconcerting as fuck.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Nope.” She grinned as she fetched the cream and sugar. The scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. “So you might as well just tell me.”
“Is Sutton awake?” I busied myself putting breakfast on plates.
Callie leaned back against the counter next to me, watching me with appraising eyes as she sipped her coffee. “You see, I figure it has something to do with you staying behind.”