Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Oh, not you too.” I groaned even though he had a point. I had ignored a few texts or at least been slow to respond. But his current question made my teeth hurt. I’d spent far too much time lately clenching my jaw. “Are you turning into paparazzi as part of your photography studies?”
“Never.” His smile dipped as he cuddled the dog closer. Cash moved to loom over him, frowning at me as Danny continued, “I’m taking fine art photo classes, not lessons on how to use a telephoto lens to wreck lives.”
“Danny hates the press.” Cash gave me a harsh look. Damn it. I’d crossed a line. Danny hated gossip, possibly even more than I did.
“Sorry.” I made my voice as sincere as possible before taking a long sip of the coffee. “I didn’t mean to make light of your issues with the media. It was a long flight.”
“And you’re all questioned out. I get it.” Danny was affable as ever, continuing to make faces and scratch the dog. “And you’re my brother, as Cash keeps reminding me. You apparently like keeping tabs on me and making sure I’m safe. Well, it goes both ways.”
“You were worried about me?” I’d told Ezra how no one really noticed when I was deployed or away from home, but maybe that wasn’t true. Huh. It was weird to be fussed over, made my skin itch. I took another sip of coffee, trying to figure out how I felt about his concern.
“Sure. You’ve never been at the center of a media storm before. I wanted to see how you’re holding up.” Danny’s tone was kind, but the inquiry still grated.
“Did Dad ask you to check in on me?”
“Dad?” Danny made a sour face. “He’s a bit too busy to check in with me.”
“Busy?” The coffee turned bitter and caustic in my gut. I wasn’t going to like this.
Looking up from his phone, Harley snort-laughed. “Oh yeah. Your old man works fast.”
“I’ll say.” Cash shook his head.
Harley spun on the stool to face me more. His faded T-shirt reminded me of Ezra’s never-ending collection of old shirts, and my chest pinged.
“I was waiting to tell you until you were back, but he wants to hire us.”
“Hire A-List?” Fuck no. But, of course, I couldn’t say that aloud. Instead, I tried to sound marginally interested. “A new movie project?”
“Worse.” Harley wrinkled his nose like his coffee had transformed into floor cleaner. “Another wedding. Number five, I believe. Right?”
“Right. She’s younger than me,” Danny volunteered, mouth twisting, expression mirroring Harley’s disgust. “And I knew you’d find the news as tiresome as I do, so I hadn’t mentioned it. But it’s all over the gossip rags right now, so you were probably bound to find out.”
“My condolences, man.” Cash clapped me on the shoulder.
“Guess hiring our company is one way to ensure your attendance at the shindig.” Harley laughed, but I didn’t.
I braced my hands on the granite counter, leaning forward, head feeling like a two-hundred-pound pack was bearing down on my shoulders. “Fuck. How can anyone think relationships work after seeing my dad plow through half of Hollywood? Fifth marriage? Please. Might as well go right from buying rings to the divorce settlement.”
“I still believe relationships can work,” Danny said mildly. His idealism was one of my favorite things about him and also maddening. “What Dad does has no relevance to my life. And not simply because we have such limited contact. Just because Dad fucked up doesn’t mean I will. If anything, it makes me more likely to fight like heck to not become him. He’s a cautionary tale, not proof of some inherent flaw in relationships.”
I blinked. During my absence, I’d forgotten how good he was at the pop psychology stuff. Just because Dad fucked up… Whoa. I’d spent my whole damn life feeling cursed by Dad’s bad decisions and behavior. I’d let it define me. Even now, a lot of my weariness stemmed from feeling like I’d need to clean up his mess, like I was somehow responsible for whatever fallout he’d likely suffer from this decision. Apparently, Danny didn’t have that same issue.
“When did you get so wise?”
“A lot of expensive therapy.” Danny shrugged, then tilted his head, considering me. “You should try it sometime.”
“Maybe,” I said absently, still mulling over Danny’s point that Dad’s actions didn’t need to have relevance to my life, didn’t have to reflect on me or guide me. If therapy had helped Danny get that level of clarity, I wouldn’t knock it.
“Seriously?” Danny widened his eyes. “What the heck happened to you on tour? Did you get replaced by an alien doppelgänger? Mr. SEAL lieutenant who doesn’t need anything or anyone is willing to think about therapy?”
“Hey, it’s helping you.” I matched his earlier shrug. I didn’t bother correcting him about not needing anyone. Funny how I once would have agreed with him, but then I met Ezra, and now I needed with a fierceness that made my bones ache. “Must be something good to therapy.”