Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
A sane woman would have gotten up quietly and run away by now.
But I’m still here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Emily
My father must be spinning in his grave.
Too bad. He didn’t exist on a moral high ground himself.
Am I nuts? Nothing Dex said scared me. And no lingering embarrassment from sharing my story with him follows me into the kitchen either.
While Dex is in the shower, I put my teakettle on the stove and flick the burner on.
I haven’t always had the best judgment about men. Is that what’s happening here? Shouldn’t the fact that he openly admits to hurting people who’ve wronged him be a giant red flag?
Somewhere around here I have a French press and a bag of coffee beans. On tiptoes, I reach for the shelf where I think I stashed the coffee.
“Now, that is the perfect morning view,” Dex says from behind me.
I turn, realizing my T-shirt isn’t covering my ass. “You’re tall. Come here and grab this bag for me so I can make you coffee.”
Regret flashes across his face. “I have to get going.”
“What?” Disappointment spills into my voice. “Why?” Damn, that sounds so clingy and needy. Just because I have no life, doesn’t mean he has nothing to do on the weekend.
“I probably should’ve done it yesterday.” He hesitates. “But I need to talk to my president about some work stuff.”
“What’s the work stuff?” Why am I being so nosy? We’ve shared enough personal info for the day. His club stuff isn’t my business. And yet, I plow ahead with the question. “Your ex-girlfriend? The stripper who came back from the dead?”
His eyes narrow. “She is not my ex.” He snorts a humorless laugh. “But yeah, I need to warn him about that, and it needs to be in person.”
I sense it’s important that he came here to talk to me last night. Then he spent a very patient morning listening to me share some dark shit. I dial back my disappointment that he’s leaving.
“Do you want to come up to the clubhouse with me?” he asks slowly, as if the question feels foreign on his tongue.
My heart jumps. I don’t think it’s an invitation he issues often. But I don’t think I’m ready for that, yet, either. “I can’t. I need to get my hair done.” I twirl a piece of my hair around my finger. “And I have to be at the school to pick Libby up when her bus gets in later.”
Disappointment flashes across his face, followed by what looks like relief? Maybe he’s not ready for that step either. “All right.”
I rest my hand on his arm. “Ask me again, though.”
“I will.”
“Come over for dinner later.” I pause, then quickly add, “If you want.”
“Don’t you want to catch up with Libby?”
“I’m sure she’ll be done filling me in by dinnertime.”
“Okay.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’d like that.”
Both of our phones ding. I turn mine over on the counter and flick the screen on. A photo of Serena holding a red-faced little bundle swaddled in blue blankets fills the screen. I sigh, smile, and get teary all at once.
“Baby Lincoln has arrived,” I say. “He looks pretty pissed too.”
Dex seems to be studying the photo more than I’d expect him to. Did he get a message with his?
“Aren’t they sweet?” I try to coax an answer from him.
“Huh?” He clicks his phone off and forces a tight smile. “Yeah. I just hope they have good doctors looking after them.”
I open my mouth, but I’m not quite sure how to respond to that. Obviously I hope so too, but that wouldn’t be my first thought. “I’m sure she does. Empire Med is known for having a top-notch birthing center. That’s why she said she didn’t switch to someplace closer to their new house.”
“Yeah,” he mutters absently, his gaze now focused on the window behind me. “Hope and Heidi were there too and did okay.”
For a single guy, he sure seems to know a lot of obstetrics info about his brothers’ wives. It’s sweet. But I can’t help wondering if there’s more to it than plain concern.
Dex
The long ride from Emily’s to the clubhouse is turning into a blessing. It gives me plenty of time to clear my head and organize my thoughts.
I ride up our long driveway and pull into the garage. Rock’s vehicles are here. That doesn’t always mean he’ll be easy to track down. Unlike Z, I’m not comfortable barging into Rock’s house on the weekends…or any other time.
I’ll check the clubhouse first and if he’s not there, I’ll text him.
Inside, a few people are hanging around the living room watching television. I nod to Sparky and Stash, who surprise, surprise seem to be high. Sparky waves, then stares at his hand.
The war room door stands open and the lights are on. No one called church but it’s not unusual for brothers to use the room to chat about stuff they don’t feel like sharing with the entire house. Rumor has it our president has used our table for “private time” with his wife, but that’s none of my business.