Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” If he wanted more info, he should’ve been at dinner. I know I’m one to talk—well, okay, not talk, but judge—but I show up at least. I might stay on the outskirts, not share anything, and dip early, but I come for the important shit. Unlike Kyle.
“Luna said Janey’s got you wrapped her around her little finger,” Carter offers, wiggling his pinkie in the air. “Drawing her baths, cooking her dinner, and playing hero with grand gestures in front of her family.” I can almost hear Luna’s description in his words, but where Carter makes it sound like I’m a pussy, I’d bet my left nut that Luna made it sound romantic. She’s an author, and while she specializes in action graphic novels, she’s a lover at heart. And Carter has less than zero room to give me shit because I know Luna has him doing Disney sing-alongs on the regular. Wrapped? Yeah, he is.
Chance chuckles. “To hear Samantha tell it, you’re an obsessive asshole who fucked her, bailed, and then stalked her to get her back. She seemed to think a police report and possible restraining order were good ideas.”
Kyle’s hanging on every word, and I wonder what Kayla’s version was, but he doesn’t offer any details, only asking, “Which is it?”
With a nonchalant shrug, I admit, “Both.”
Laughing, Kyle says, “Sounds about right.” But he must move with the laughter because he hisses an instant later and the tailor, who’s at his back, winces.
“Sowwy,” she says, her mouth full of pins again. I wonder if she’s ever swallowed one? It seems like a dangerous way to go about her work, but what do I know? “Almosth done.”
“Catch me up. What’s she like?” Kyle asks.
“Most importantly, mine,” I snap. Kyle can’t help it, women flock to him. They always have. Over the years, especially when we were younger, more than a couple of ex-girlfriends asked if I’d hook them up with him after our breakup, which I always declined. As far as I know, when a girl I’ve dated approached him directly, Kyle told them to fuck off too. But Janey’s different and I don’t want any misunderstanding.
Kyle holds both hands up, causing the tailor to inhale sharply. I think she pokes him on purpose this time, but he brushes it off with a glance her way. “No worries, bro. I meant like . . . how’d she get you all . . . like that?” He waves his hands in my general direction, indicating my current mood, which isn’t all too different from my usual mood.
That’s not true.
Normally, I would’ve wanted to go first for the fittings, get the hell outta dodge, and not fuck with all this brotherly love shit. But here I am, willingly going last and hanging out with my brothers for the better part of the day. The entire day. I can’t remember the last time I did that. If I ever did.
I’m quiet for too long, but my brothers are patient fuckers and wait me out until I finally admit, “She’s different. She sees good in everything, even me, and it’s kinda nice to not think the world is a shithole for a change.”
Nobody says anything. Even the tailor freezes. And all eyes are on me.
Fucking annoying people. I should’ve stuck with my usual—make it short and get gone.
The room bursts into rowdy teasing with everyone talking over each other.
“Hell, that was nearly poetic, man!” Cameron quips.
“She sees good in you?” Carter says, making it sound like that’s impossible.
“Ah ma gawd,” the tailor mutters.
“Wow.” Short and simple, to the point . . . that’s Chance.
But it’s Kyle who responds with the most sincerity, not sounding like he means it any other way than with kindness. “Can’t wait to meet her.”
I acknowledge Kyle with a grateful nod, ignoring my other brothers’ shit-stirring.
After a moment, Chance clears his throat. “Much as I hate to interrupt this love fest, Marvin and Noah are going to be here soon. Can we please not act like us in front of them?”
Marvin is Samantha’s stepdad, and Noah is her stepbrother. The step-titles are new. Samantha’s mom, Susan, and Marvin did a courthouse ceremony about four months ago, and from what I’ve seen in my research, they’re absolutely disgustingly in love. I’m happy for them, especially since it’s a second marriage for them both—Susan’s first marriage ended in an unexpected and ugly divorce, and Marvin’s first wife sadly passed away. They’re making the best of a new opportunity at happiness, though, blending their lives and kids—Noah, Samantha, and her younger sister, Olivia—together as delicately as possible.
Nobody argues, so Chance takes that as begrudging agreement on everyone’s part. And none too soon because the front door opens, and Marvin and Noah come in just minutes later.
“Hey, everybody! How’s it going?” Marvin hollers. He’s a big personality, always has a smile on his face, and I don’t think he’s ever met a stranger. People he doesn’t know are merely friends waiting to be made.