Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
She reached out and grasped my hand in both of hers, holding tight. “Good,” she said. “It’s about damn time.”
My father stood as I entered the room, his smile slipping when he took in my expression.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. Jesus, my heart was knocking so hard in my chest I felt breathless.
“Gage? Are you okay?” He glanced at his watch. “I would have thought you’d be on the way to the airport by now. Your flight leaves in a couple of hours.”
I sat down in the chair in front of his desk and he lowered himself back into his, his expression growing more concerned.
I took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, running my palms over my thighs. “Dad, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I hope to God you’ll understand, because the last thing on earth I ever wanted to do was disappoint you.”
My dad sat back slowly, his stricken gaze latched on my face. “What is it, son? Tell me what’s going on.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Rory
I grabbed an apple from the basket Haven had brought over the day before, tossing it in the air before taking a big bite of the crisp, sweet fruit. The door to the trailer squeaked as I opened it, halting when I saw the Rolls Royce pulling to a stop on the cleared portion of land that would soon be a parking lot.
I stepped down onto the patchy grass, using the back of my hand to wipe the apple juice from my lip as I finished chewing, and waited for the person to get out of the shiny luxury car.
My dog Waffle trotted from the trees, making his way to me as the car door opened and…Gage’s father got out. “Oh no,” I breathed as the passenger door and the back door opened, Gage’s mother, and the woman I’d seen in the restaurant that day, and then again at his party, who I thought was likely Gage’s sister got out as well.
Waffle bumped against my leg, barking as the three Buchanans began walking toward me, Gage’s sister slipping on a pair of sunglasses as the rest of the brood appeared from different parts of the property where they’d been out exploring or romping or sleeping, but generally loving life on the larger plot of land.
Jinx and Keanu started barking too, but I shushed them with a wave of my hand as they came to stand sentry next to me, their wide grins and wagging tails belying the impression of any real danger.
Mrs. Buchanan smiled as they approached. “Aurora,” she said. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Mrs. Buchanan,” I said warily, half preparing to be accosted in some way again.
“Please, call me Lana.” She glanced at Mr. Buchanan who had come up next to her. “And you’ve met my husband, Jonathan, who I believe owes you an apology, as do I.”
I stilled, my gaze moving between the two elder Buchanans. I released a breath as Gage’s sister stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m Lexi,” she said with a smile. “The only Buchanan who doesn’t owe you an apology.” I clasped her hand and let out a small, breathy laugh, surprise at this unexpected visit throwing me into an emotional tailspin. They’d barely said anything and yet, already, I had no idea how to respond.
“Hi, Lexi. It’s nice to meet you.” The dogs whined, butts wiggling as they resisted greeting these people in front of us.
“Who are these sweet pups?” Lexi asked, putting her hands on her knees and bending forward. With her obviously welcoming stance, I nodded toward Lexi and said softly, “go ahead,” letting the dogs know they were free to say hi. They rushed her, wiggling and licking and bumping her hands with their noses, and Lexi laughed and allowed them to love her somewhat frantically for a minute before standing straight. When she met my eyes, I realized I’d been smiling as I watched the interaction that let me know without a doubt that she was a good person that I already liked.
“May we sit down?” Mrs. Buchanan asked, gesturing with one hand toward the picnic table I’d placed under a massive, elegant willow tree the week before and scratching Jinx under her chin.
“Um, sure,” I said, snapping my fingers at the dogs and pointing back toward the trailer. “Go lie down.” They all turned and went to lie in the shade as the four of us walked to the outdoor eating area where I’d been enjoying my meals al fresco for the past week.
I tossed my apple into the trees for the birds, my stomach in too many knots at the moment to eat.
“This is a beautiful plot of land,” Mr. Buchanan said as he looked around, his gaze moving from the willow tree we were sitting under, to the roof of Haven’s Gate’s red barn that could barely be seen beyond the copse of trees, to the slip of shimmering lake, and finally resting on the temporary trailer I was living in.