Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
He ran out of breath, or he was trying to calm himself. Either way, he went quiet.
“If you need anything—”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I don’t mean this as an insult, but I’ll be damned if I take money for this fight,” he said. “We do well. We can financially handle this battle, and if we need to dip into emergency funds, Harmony’s parents are wealthy. They are also in absolute love with Stevie, Georgie, and Sammy.”
“Georgie?”
“It’s his preferred name. He wants to go with the status quo of a name ending in an -ie or -y.”
I snorted. “That mean I can call you Will—”
“When Channing Monroe calls or conveniently shows up where I’ve stopped to fill my vehicle with gas, or get food at a grocery store that’s forty minutes out of his way, or who knows what excuse he’ll have—am I right in requesting that he send me all the information he’s obtained on our sister over the years?”
I fought back a smile. “Think I liked you better when you didn’t talk to me.”
“Brett.”
“Yeah. I’ll shoot him a text. When he checks in on you today, knowing him, he’ll probably have everything ready for you.”
“That would be appreciated. Now, is there anything else to talk about? Because I’d really like to try to get thirty more minutes of sleep so I can round my sleep tally up to three hours before tackling the shitstorm the rest of the day will be.”
“No. There’s nothing el—”
He ended the call.
I stared at the phone, a sense of wonder coming over me. Who had that been? That’d not been the half-brother I remembered from school, getting a glimpse of him at sporting events when Roussou played Fallen Crest or from the very, very few holidays when our dad got a hankering for all his kids to be under the same roof. That hadn’t lasted long. Will stopped coming after three holidays.
“Was it a good phone call?”
Billie was in the doorway, still looking delectable and holding a coffee.
“Yeah.” That surprised me. “I think it was.”
“Good.”
She still had sleepy eyes, and there were lines over her cheek from where she’d been hugging my pillow. But it was her smile that forced me to draw in some air, feeling a crack inside of me.
Goddamn.
I didn’t want to think about what that meant, so I walked toward her.
Her eyes grew big, and alarm flashed on her face, but she only had time to back up one step.
I snagged the coffee, putting it aside, and hoisted her up.
“Brett!”
I tossed her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to bed.”
“To sleep?” There was a hopeful hitch in her tone.
I had no intention of sleeping.
25
BILLIE
It was date night tonight. We were going on an official date.
I wasn’t nervous. My armpits weren’t sweaty. They were so sweaty. Gah. I was freaking out. I’d met Dee for coffee yesterday and we caught up. Their wedding planning was starting to look like it’d be an elopement in Vegas. She was more than happy for that since Martell’s daughter was happy with that choice as well. Dee had been mostly worried about if Kindra would be upset about that or not.
Then the tables turned and she asked about my love life. If I had a love life.
I wasn’t going to say anything, but it was Dee and Lo was still not quite off the Travis hill, even though she said she’d give Brett a chance. So, well…
Dee spewed out her coffee when I told her who was I dating.
“Girl.” She sat back, shook her head, and sighed. “You did get his number! You gotta tell me e-very-thing.”
I spilled. Not all of it, but most of it.
Her eyebrow was so high by the end, and she hunched farther over the table. “And you’re taking it slow?”
“Trying.”
But it’d been hard, so hard. Pun very much intended.
Over the last week and a half, Brett and I had spent almost every night together, alternating between my place or his. Tonight was Friday night so we’d end at his place, and we’d torture ourselves. Brett needed to get good sleep for football, so it wasn’t unusual if we headed to bed around eight. That was just the beginning of the torture sessions.
I was damn near combusting, just thinking about it. I shifted in my seat, readjusting my shirt. Was it hot in here? It felt hot.
“You’ve got it bad, Billie.”
I groaned. “I do. I really do.”
“What are you two doing for date night tonight?”
“I have no idea. He said it’d be a surprise.”
It’d be nice to talk with Dee, catch up, but now I was back at the farm and getting ready for Brett to pick me up.
I was in the sweating phase. Sweating like a penguin that swam too far north and ended up on an embankment with crocodiles. One thing did not fit in and was definitely not supposed to be there. That was me. That’s how I felt.