Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Salem says quietly, tracing the floral patterns on her dress. Goosebumps dot her arms, but she doesn’t move like she’s cold.
Instead, she spreads her fingers, inviting the air in to cool her skin.
“Has someone made you feel like you don’t belong? Is it Archer?”
“No, nothing like that. Everyone’s been so nice. Too nice, maybe. But I guess that’s the issue…” She looks at me slowly. “You have such a lovely family. For me, that’s pretty alien.”
With my gaze smoldering, I take her hand.
“Don’t be afraid. Whatever happened with your folks, it won’t happen again. We don’t send family packing into exile.”
I shake my head, holding back the curses her parents deserve. How could they do that shit to their own daughter?
And all because she wouldn’t give up a kid they felt was a wrench being tossed into their little lives?
People are strange fucking birds sometimes.
They can also change, and not always for the better. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened much in my own family. I can see how foreign that might be to Salem.
Look at Dex, the ultimate workaholic human android before Junie.
Archer, he’s so reserved he’d make a fridge magnet look outgoing.
Me, I’m the risk-taker. Shallow and self-centered, or so everyone says.
Mom, she’s the glue holding us together, but not because we need it.
“What was so bad about it all? The unfamiliarity?” I ask gently.
“Nothing. Nothing bad, I just…” She looks at me, her eyes wide with dark feelings pooling in this light. “I was talking about the future and your mom started showing me some antique jewelry after I talked about looking up inspiration for art and décor at future properties.”
“And?”
She hesitates, sighing loudly.
“Don’t you get it, Patton? We’re bound to disappoint them, disappoint her, once the truth comes out. We’re basking in all these smiles and glitzy stuff and it’s all going to come crashing down.”
I don’t understand the tension in her voice.
“Why? Because my mother showed you some old jewelry and you talked about the future?”
“Because good things don’t last! Not for me. Not for a black cat.”
“Lady Bug, fuck.” I take her icy hands in mine.
All of her feels cold, really, but she’s too stubborn to admit it and let me warm her.
“Good things do happen,” I tell her, trying to be gentle but I’m growling anyway. That’s what she needs right now, a gentle touch, even if it’s frustrating as hell to have to convince her she deserves better than she’s gotten before.
“I wish I had your confidence.” She sighs again.
“Salem, look up.” I wait for her eyes to meet mine before I say, “The good things are coming. We’re living them right now. You deserve them.”
She presses my hands to her lips, a kiss like spring rain.
“Yeah, you’re right. I know you are even if I don’t want to believe it,” she whispers. “Thank you.”
“You’re being ridiculous, you know. All everybody talks about is how great we look together. My brothers can’t believe I scored a woman like you.”
She laughs harshly.
Let her wonder. If they weren’t being real, they wouldn’t have ripped the shit out of me over it.
“Now stop brooding and put this on.” I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. “It’s been a good night. My mom loves you. She loves Arlo. You’ve made friends with Junie, and you know what would make it better?”
“What?” Her hot tears shock me when I feel their heat, clinging to her face like rain glazing the trees.
“If we told Arlo. End our night on a high note.”
“Hmm… yeah.” She swallows and looks away, considering it. “It would be a big finish.”
I wait, but she doesn’t say yes.
Fuck.
Look, I get that I’m throwing one more big wild card her way when she’s in an environment where she’s second-guessing everything.
I’m also one impatient prick.
“I take it that’s a no,” I say flatly, keeping the irritation out of my voice.
“I’m sorry, Patton. It just feels too soon. I promise we’ll do it soon, when we can figure it out.”
“When it isn’t soon at all, you mean.” Like I said. Prick.
I resist the urge to curse and stare at the house. I know I’m throwing a fucking tantrum and I hate myself for it.
But hell, if we told everyone about Arlo—if we told Arlo about me—we could go that extra step, starting a new chapter.
We could be something greater than the lonely, doubtful creatures we’ve been for too long.
My ass hurts. It’s like my dad’s old bench wants to add insult to injury, a rough spot in the weathered metal rubbing on my hip.
Salem slides an arm around my neck and presses her body against mine.
Usually, that’s enough to soften me up—or harden me, if I’m being honest—but now I’m not in the mood, even with her in that airy dress.