Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“I know I don’t.” She waves me off. “I want to.”
“Mom loves reading, baby,” Tide tells me quietly.
“She loves to read books with half-naked men wearing kilts on the covers,” Hunter grumbles, and I laugh.
“Sorry.” I look at Jolene. “I’m not laughing at you. I actually enjoy those kinds of books too.”
“Really?” she asks, and I nod, then rattle off some of my favorite authors. A few of them we have in common, which means we spend the rest of dinner talking about our favorite books and favorite scenes. The guys listen to us, sipping their beers and adding in commentary every once in a while. It mostly includes them saying that if they tried anything the men in the books did, they would end up in the doghouse. Since they aren’t wrong, we don’t deny it.
After we finish dinner and have chocolate cake for dessert, Tide and I help Jolene clean up, while Hunter goes to the den to watch TV—something Jolene just rolls her eyes about.
“Thank you for dinner, Mom.” Tide wraps his arms around his mom and kisses the top of her head as I finish wiping down the counters.
“You’re welcome.” She pats his chest. “Feeding you is the least I could do after I put you to work today.” Her eyes come to me. “Will you be spending Halloween with us this year, Aria?”
“Definitely.” I smile.
“Have you figured out what you are going to dress up as this year?” she asks Tide, and he shakes his head.
“Not yet. We need to talk to Olivia to see what she wants the three of us to go as,” he says, and the idea of being included warms my chest with happiness.
“Well, I can’t wait to see. I have no doubt it’s going to be picture-worthy.” She laughs, then comes over to give me a hug. “Thank you for coming to dinner, Aria.”
“Thank you for having me,” I say when she lets me go, and Tide takes my hand and leads me into the den, where we say goodnight to his dad before heading for the front door.
“Do you mind if I get your number from Tide?” Jolene asks me when we step out onto the porch. “I’d love to meet up with you for lunch one day.”
“I’d like that a lot.”
“Good.” She looks at Tide. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Mom.” Tide lifts his chin, then leads me to the passenger side of his truck.
After he opens my door, I get in and wave to Jolene, realizing that I’m sad to leave. Being around Tide and his parents was refreshing, and seeing the kind of relationship he has with the people who raised him, especially his mom, says a lot about the man he is. Not only does he love her; he respects her and just enjoys her company. I’m sure, like every family, they’ve had difficult times, but I doubt his mom is sleeping around while his father is drinking himself into an early grave to bury his feelings. They’ve probably dealt with any issues like normal adults and taught their son to do the same, which makes me hopeful for Tide and me. It’s not that I don’t think that two people who grew up with similar circumstances can’t work; I just think it can make things more difficult.
Like me, my ex Josh had a turbulent relationship with his parents. They were either around, causing a whole bunch of drama, or out of his life completely. There was no in between—something I know he hated, even if he would never, ever admit it. Looking back, I can see why he would think my parents and my relationship with them were normal, or maybe even better than he had growing up. But with two people coming from the same unhealthy place, there was no middle ground. Neither of us knew when to stop and take a step back or when to say “We need to work on this together so we could both be happy.” Or maybe our relationship was so unhealthy, we both knew deep down it wasn’t worth the time or effort it would take to fix it. Then again on my part, I knew there was just nothing to fix. I knew things wouldn’t work out, that staying with him would be me forever attempting to push a boulder uphill—something that is both pointless and extremely tiring in the long run.
“What are you thinking about?” Tide asks, dragging me from my thoughts while grabbing my hand to pull it to rest on his thigh.
“Just that I really like your parents,” I admit, and his fingers give mine a squeeze. “They’re so normal.”
“They aren’t perfect,” he says gently. “They’ve just found what works for them. Dad puts up with the constant projects, floral wallpaper in the dining room that he hates, and decorations in the house and outside most of the year, and Mom makes sure he’s always got a warm meal when he comes home, and stays away from the den, because that’s his space, especially during football season.”