Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Me: We’re having dinner on Saturday night. Happy?
She sends me dozens of heart-eyed emojis and then offers to help me with my makeup, which I vehemently refuse. I finally get her off my case when I promise we can have brunch Sunday morning so I can fill her in on how it went.
My phone starts ringing and I brace myself for Jamie’s excitement but freeze when Dempsey’s name flashes across the screen.
Why is he calling?
Panicking, I send it to voicemail before shooting him a text.
Me: What’s up? I’m a little tied up at the moment.
He sends me a bunch of big eyes emojis that I’m unable to interpret.
Dempsey: When you get a chance, call me back. I’ve already been collecting intel on your nephew.
My stomach twists, making me regret eating more fast food tonight for dinner. I’m going to have to start cooking or something because I can’t take much more of Kaden’s food choices. He sure as hell hates my microwavable dinners. We’re going to have to meet in the middle.
I start drafting a long text, but before I can complete it, Dempsey calls again. This time, I hop up from the sofa and slip out onto the back patio to privately take the call.
“Hello?”
A deep voice chuckles from the other end. “I knew you weren’t too busy to talk to me.”
Why does he sound so much older on the phone?
“What do you have for me?” I ask with a huff. “Is he okay?”
He clears his throat and launches into what he called for, saving me from my awkwardness. “Trevor is friends with a dipshit named Charlie, who works at the lodge. My friend Omar says Trevor is always up there with Charlie and some other kid, Alex. They hang out during their breaks behind the main building. Could be smoke breaks, but it’s kind of strange Trevor goes up there if he doesn’t even work there.”
My thoughts exactly.
“I’m going to go scope it out tonight,” he says, voice matter-of-fact. “See what I can find out while I’m there.”
“Wait,” I blurt out. “I just wanted information. What you’ve told me helps, but you don’t need to physically involve yourself over my problems.”
“Our deal is for me to locate him, not confirm your suspicions.” He sighs heavily into the phone as though he’s decades older and dealing with my drama is exhausting him. “Let me find him, Sloane. For you.”
Butterflies flutter in my lower belly and I don’t know what to make of it. Clearly, I’m confusing who in the hell I’m talking to right now. This isn’t Jamie’s pick for me, Oliver. This is her damn son.
“I…” I trail off, unable to find the right words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Most people just say thank you,” he deadpans.
I crack a smile and shake my head. “Thank you. But seriously, Demps, your mother may not approve of…this.”
This being the coffee, the texts, the butterflies.
He snorts out a laugh. “Believe it or not, Mom doesn’t know about everything I do. This can be our little secret if it makes you feel better.”
Does it?
No.
The entire thing makes me feel like total and utter shit. However, Dempsey has grown on me lately. I’m discovering there’s more to him than the bad boy who’s always giving his parents trouble. Behind that front, he’s thoughtful and caring.
And handsome.
Seriously, Sloane?
“Oh yeah,” he says, humor in his voice. “Are you ready to hold up your end of the deal?”
What could he possibly want from me?
It’s a desperate act, but I force myself not to think about the answer to that question.
“What is it?” I ask, exasperation in my tone. “It better not be anything embarrassing.”
“Nah, I’d never embarrass you.” His words are murmured and so soft they almost tickle my ears. “I only want to see you happy.”
My stomach dips dangerously at his words. God, I really do need to go out on a date because Dempsey’s smooth talking is going to be the death of me.
“I’ll be happy when I know what my nephew is up to and can help him,” I say tightly, trying hard to steer the conversation back to a safer territory.
“You may as well consider it done already,” he says with a smugness that makes me roll my eyes. “Let’s go hiking Saturday.”
Hiking?
Of all the things that could come out of this man’s—er, guy’s—mouth, I didn’t expect him to throw something outdoorsy at me.
“And here I thought you were going to ask for a get-out-of-jail-free card or unlimited speeding ticket removals.”
“You make me want to behave, so I won’t be needing any of that.” He laughs, husky and deep. “Come on. What do you say?”
I grin because all this banter between us feels good. And I like his laugh. A lot. I’m about to agree when I come off my cloud of fantasy, stumbling right back into bitter reality.