Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Why are we here?” Ramsey growled.
I grinned at him, but it was my turn to play the silent game.
My dad came walking out of the double glass doors before I had cut the engine.
Pressed slacks. Tailored button-down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Thinning, gray hair combed to the side. It was just the way Misty liked him.
I was thrilled when they’d gotten married. Dad had needed someone to take care of him. In a strange way, that had been the hardest part after he’d lost my mom. His heart was shattered, but she had always been the one to pick up the pieces. It took a lot of years and a lot of therapy for me to truly forgive him for the way he’d checked out after she’d died. But much like Ramsey, I’d never be able to thank him enough for the way he’d stepped up for all of us when our lives suddenly exploded.
And I loved him that much more as he rounded the hood of our SUV with a warm smile aimed directly at the man in my passenger seat.
When Ramsey looked at me, I was prepared for more of his anger, but his face paled and his gaze was pleading.
It almost made me feel bad for springing this on him.
Almost. But not really.
“Ramsey Stewart,” my dad greeted as he snatched the car door open. “I was wondering when my girls were going to bring you around to see me. How ya been, son?”
Ramsey blinked rapidly. “Um…Hi, Mr. Hull. I’m uh…good.”
I bit my bottom lip to stifle a laugh. Big, tough Ramsey had cussed me seven ways from Sunday, but he turned into a bumbling kid when it came to my dad.
“Come on in. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
He followed my father’s direction so quickly that he forgot to unbuckle his seat belt and it yanked him back when he tried to get out.
I couldn’t hide my laughter that time.
With jerky movements, Ramsey managed to escape the merciless belt of confinement and climb out of the car. My dad shook his hand and pulled him in for a back pat.
Contentment washed over me the likes of which I hadn’t felt in years. I liked seeing them together. My two guys embraced in a hug.
I tucked my phone and my keys into the back pocket of my jeans and then met them at the front door to the shop.
“How’s it going, buttercup?” my dad asked while pulling me in for a side hug.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Well, it turns out Ramsey never loved me. He was just trying to get laid in high school.”
Ramsey’s mouth fell open, the most incredulous shock contorting his handsome face.
My only response was a shrug.
“Hmm,” my dad hummed. “That true, Ramsey?”
“Well, I… That—That’s not what I meant, sir.”
“What did you mean, then?” I asked, innocently batting my eyelashes at him.
Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.
Ramsey bulged his eyes at me. “All I was saying was that we were kids when we dated. Things are different now. We’ve both changed a lot.”
“So, you did love me then?”
His jaw ticked as he shot lasers my way. “We were kids.”
“Right. I got that. I’m just trying to establish if you loved me or not. Were you lying then or are you lying now?”
My dad’s head bounced between us like he was watching a ping-pong match. Nora and I were not exactly known for being “well-behaved women.” My father encouraged us to step out and be heard, even when the entire town was against us. Besides, he was no delicate daisy, either. He’d heard far worse than this from us over the years. He was used to it.
Ramsey, however, was not.
He clenched his teeth so hard that I feared he was going to need a dentist when we left. “I think we can have this conversation later.”
“Okay, but to be clear, since I was so tragically bad at reading the situation last time. After we have this talk, are you hoping to get laid again? Or was that just a high school thing?”
My dad coughed and became enthralled with his shoes, and my Ramsey, my sweet Ramsey… His face turned bright red as he stared at me in absolute awe—and not the good kind.
But deep in my heart of hearts, it was the best kind because that was an emotion I recognized from him. Giving each other shit had been a way of life before he’d gone to prison. We loved each other fiercely, but we also loved to torment each other as if we didn’t.
I was actually quite proud of myself. His face had shifted through the full spectrum of colors in the three minutes since we’d arrived. That was no easy feat with a man like him.