Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“That’s so sweet!” I began to climb into his lap to give him proper appreciation when my mom walked out of the house through the sliding doors. I scrambled back onto the bench. Bash snickered.
Mom set a plastic tray of brownies down on the table before handing Bash a tall glass of icy lemonade. “What’s so sweet?”
“Thanks, Mrs. Prince.” Bash smiled before taking a deep sip. “This hits the spot.”
“Bash was going to plan a birthday surprise for me,” I said. “But Joey ruined it.”
Mom shook her head. “Typical Joseph. Takes after his father. Impulsive. Doesn’t think before he acts.”
Dad came out of the sliding glass doors and set a cold beer in front of Bash. “Because Laura isn’t impulsive in the least, taking off on the back of a motorcycle when he came through town all those years ago. Pfft.”
I looked at the noticeably empty area of the picnic table in front of me. “Where’s my beer and lemonade?” I asked.
Mom lifted an eyebrow. “I would imagine it’s in the kitchen where it lives.”
Before I could stand up to go serve myself, Bash slid the beer over to me. “You take this one. I’m keeping a clear head for later.”
“What’s happening later?” Dad asked, pulling brownies out for each of us and setting them on paper napkins.
“I’m taking him on a tour of Linden,” I said with a snort.
Mom let out a huff of laughter. “Don’t blink, Sebastian, or you’ll miss it.”
Bash squeezed my leg. “He’s taking me to meet Daisy. Would you two like to come with us?”
Mom’s eyes filled, and she clapped a hand to her chest. “That’s so sweet. Oh! He’s a keeper, Rowe. What a sweet boy. And you should have seen how he reacted to seeing your portrait.”
I whipped my head around mid-brownie-bite. “What portrait, Mother? What. Portrait.” It hadn’t been easy to convince my father to hide the embarrassing photos of me before we arrived home, but I’d done it.
At least, I’d thought so.
Bash’s eyes danced while his mouth turned up in a cocky grin. “Li’l… diaper—”
I clapped a hand over his mouth and glared at my father. “You are a failure as a wingman. You are fired from any future winging. You have failed your son and heir, and this will not be forgotten.”
Bash’s arm came around me, and he managed to pull my hand away enough to whisper in my ear. “He sold it to me for a dollar. It’s going over the fireplace in the penthouse.”
If his voice in my ear didn’t override all of my brain cells with want cells, I might have argued with him. Instead, I let out an embarrassing sound and inhaled the familiar scent of him. “Gotta go. We… gotta go…”
When I pulled away from Bash, my parents were howling with laughter. “Gotcha,” Mom said, pointing at me. “You’re so predictable.”
When Dad finally caught his breath, he walked over and squeezed Bash’s shoulder. “Thank you for including us, but we’re going to let you boys go on your visit without us.” He turned to me. “Be sure to drive him out past Luna Farms. There’s something out there I want you to see.”
“What is it?” I asked, standing up and gathering the napkin and crumbs from my brownie.
Dad shot Bash an enigmatic look. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
I grabbed Bash’s hand and led him through the house and out to the driveway. “I think he wants me to introduce you to Apple Butter. Apparently, my father doesn’t mind sending me to revisit childhood trauma.”
Bash leaned over to press a kiss to my temple. “Poor baby. I was thinking we could buy Apple Butter so Starlight would have a friend.”
My heart went all goopy when he used “we” like that. He was doing it more and more lately, and it made me both nervous and excited for what our future held.
“You’re a sentimental sap,” I accused. “Sticky sweet and super sappy.”
Before we reached my mom’s minivan, Bash pulled me into his arms and smiled down at me. “You make me that way. Silas says it’s disgusting. Zane thinks it’s sweet. Dev still can’t believe there’s actually a soft side to me, and Landry hasn’t said a word. He just struts around in a T-shirt that reads the purest soul. As if I needed reminders of my giant cheesy love declaration, considering I did it in front of two hundred industry peers.”
“Wasn’t cheesy,” I said. “It was everything.”
“You really are the purest soul,” he murmured with a soft kiss.
“And Kenji?” I teased. I already knew Kenji was the leader of the Rowe Prince fan club. He’d started prioritizing all Daisy Chain tasks above Bash’s other stuff and came to me for decisions now before involving Bash.
“Kenji’s not allowed to speak your name aloud,” he said, losing his smirk. “He’s on P-Rowe-bation after having the audacity to tell me that he spent my Fake Sterling Chase Escape Fund money on Taylor Swift tickets for the two of you.”