Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“I know who you are Dad.” Diego Reyes always made sure to tell me exactly who it was whenever we spoke, as if I could forget the voice of the man who raised me. “How are things down in Florida?” He’d moved to the sunshine state a few years ago when he and wife number three were in search of a change of scenery.
“Things are fine but I’ve moved on from Florida. Livin’ in Colorado these days, Denver. With my new woman,” he said casually as if this were a new occurrence for him. “Which is why I’m calling. I’ve asked Trish to marry me and she said yes, now I find myself in need of a best man.”
A best man for his fourth wedding. I bit back a groan, wondering if there was some kind of limit. After three failed marriages, didn’t the law require you to just do a drive-by wedding? Nothing big or fancy. Or lavish. “I’m not sure, Dad.”
“Oh come on, Liam. Just do this for your old man, I promise you’ll like Trish. Retired nurse,” he said proudly. “Got her own pension and everything.” Which meant that, at least, she wasn’t chasing the little bit of money he’d managed to save over the years, despite his chronic marriage habit.
“It has nothing to do with that, Dad. Mostly.”
“Then what is it?”
I sighed. “I leave in the morning for an assignment.” The life of private security wasn’t as glamourous or as exciting as it seemed. Sure, I went to a lot of exotic locations but mostly under the cover of darkness and rarely did I get to see any of the sights. “Shouldn’t be more than a few weeks. When is the big day?”
Dad sighed. “I’d really love for you to be there Liam. Let me talk to Trish and see if she has a problem pushing it back.” I stepped from my car in the parking lot of The Mayflower and stared at the screen.
“Wait, you’re checking with her? And you’re willing to push the wedding back? What’s going on?” He had to be sick, possibly even dying, for such a change in personality.
His laughter sounded down the line, followed by a cough from years of his two pack a day habit. “What’s going on son, is your old man is in love. For real this time.”
“I’m glad for ya,” I told him absently. I didn’t believe in love, true or otherwise, had seen too many instances of so-called love gone wrong to buy into that lie. But Dad was a romantic, gruff as hell with dirt always under his nails, but a romantic at heart, and he believed in love of the truest kind. “Call me with the details and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, yeah?” I could picture his thick, salt and pepper hair bobbing slightly with his nod, because Diego preferred to wear his hair long since, as he always said, the chicks dug it.
“Sounds good. You be safe out there boy, and always watch your six.”
“Always do, Dad. Congratulations.”
“Ah, thanks. Talk soon. Love you.” He ended the call before I could decide whether or not to say it back. I loved my old man, but our relationship was the definition of complicated, thanks to his marriage addiction.
A big hand landed on my back with a thud. “Penny for your thoughts?”
I turned quickly, hands in a defensive position, until recognition dawned. “Xander man, what the hell? Sheriff or not, you almost got laid out.”
His gaze took in my big, scarred fists and Xander held his hands up. “Why the hell are you so jumpy? Worried about this assignment?”
“Nah,” I told him easily. With more than a hundred of these types of jobs under my belt, there was very little worry before wheels up. It was usually when we landed that shit hit the fan. “Just got off the phone with my dad. He’s getting married again. Wife number four.”
Xander let out a low whistle. “That sounds like a lot of wives for sure,” he said as we made our way inside the bar. “But what’s the big deal?”
“Now? It’s not a big deal at all, but every time a new bride comes along, it makes me think of the ones before her. Wife number two was a part-time junkie and a full time party girl, ended up with me doing a five year stint in foster care. Number three was a religious nut and a low-key nympho who’d do anyone, even a stepson.”
“Damn,” he said and let out another whistle. “Let’s get this man a drink or five!” He clapped my back and ordered two shots and two beers. “I guess it’s a good thing you leave tomorrow.”
“Yeah. It would be, but he’s gonna talk to the bride-to-be and see about postponing the big day until I can be his best man.” That was the most surprising part of all.