Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Kensey chuckled. “He takes after his father that way. No ugly duckling moments. They were swans from the day they were born.”
As she led us into the dining room, Blake looked up from his seat at the table. He rose and slapped Dax on his back as they exchanged hellos. His attention then zipped to me, and he offered me a warm, authentic smile that was at total contrast to the formal ones he used to flash me. “Addison, glad you could come.”
“As if I’d miss out on Kensey’s cooking,” I said, my lips kicking up.
I still wasn’t certain what made him change his attitude toward me. I’d asked Dax, but he’d only said I won Blake over.
While father and son talked business, I helped Kensey carry the plates and drinks to the table. She and I each then took a seat beside our respective husband.
Across from me, she leaned forward to get a better look at the intricate dragonfly on my arm. “Caelan mentioned he gave you a tattoo,” she said, a proud glint in her eye. “My boy’s good. He did some for me, too.” She turned both her sparsely inked arms this way and that, giving me flashes of them.
One caught my eye, and I pointed at it. “That quote. I know that quote. It’s from one of my favorite books. You read Nina Bowen?”
She started in surprise. “I do.”
I put a hand to my chest. “I won’t lie, I love her. I have a major crush on her fabulously creative brain.”
Her lips tipped up. “Dax told me you’re a big reader. He says you have more books than I do.”
Chewing on food, Blake snorted. “That can’t be possible.”
“Oh, it’s possible,” Dax told him, cutting into his salmon.
A slow blink from Blake. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly. You should see the size of her bookcase. It’s even bigger than Mom’s.”
Blake shook his head, clearly doubtful.
“It is huge,” I conceded, lifting my cutlery. “I adore it.”
“It has rails with sliding ladders.” Dax ate a chunk of salmon. “There’s hardly any spaces on the shelves. Addison has amassed one hell of a collection of books.”
“I’m not seeing the problem,” I said, raising my shoulders.
“No, neither am I,” Kensey cut in.
Blake slid her a quick look. “You would say that. Reading is an addiction for you—plain and simple.”
Kensey flicked up a challenging brow. “And?”
With another snort, he resettled his gaze on me. “How’re your parents doing?”
“Fine.” I scooped up a forkful of lime rice. “My dad says you two confer regularly over whether you think this marriage could be on the rocks.”
Blake eyed me, clearly doubtful. “I’m not sure why he’d say that. In fact, I’m quite sure he wouldn’t have. You’re calling my bluff.”
I smiled. “Am I?”
Blake looked at his son. “Is she?”
“I don’t know.” Dax lifted his glass and took a sip of his water. “But you probably do confer with Dane.”
Blake scoffed. “I have far better things to do than gossip about your marriage.”
“And yet, you’re very likely still doing it,” Dax hedged.
His mouth curving, Blake sliced off a chunk of salmon. “He likes you, you know. He just doesn’t like that he likes you. He’s determined to loathe you, as a matter of fact. But he’s struggling with it.”
I heaved a tired sigh. “I think it’s all so dumb.”
Kensey nodded, her mouth full.
“When you have kids of your own, you’ll understand his struggles,” Blake told me.
I shook my head. “No, even then, I really don’t think I will.”
Again, Blake cut his gaze to his son. “You will.”
“Yeah, I will,” Dax agreed.
Lifting my glass, I cast my husband a sideways glance. “I’d like us to get along with whoever our children’s choice of partner happens to be.”
“I’ll get along with them just fine.” Dax dipped a small slice of salmon in his sauce. “I’ll simply never for a moment make them feel welcome.”
I frowned. “I don’t see how the two can go together.”
“They will. You’ll see.”
Yeah, I really didn’t think so, but whatever.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You’ve dumped your friends for cock.”
Turning away from my office filing cabinet later that week, I frowned at Sabrina. “What?”
Standing in front of my desk with her arms folded, she briefly inclined her head as she conceded, “Okay, so, occasionally you’ll meet me and Tamara for drinks or whatever. But that’s the problem—you only do it occasionally.”
I sighed. “You act like you rarely see me.”
“Spending time with you at work isn’t the same thing. It’s not socializing.”
“True.” There was a low screech of metal as I pulled open a cabinet drawer. “But just because I’m not going out with you on the regular doesn’t mean I’m blowing you off for dick or anything else.” I tugged a file out of the drawer and then closed it. “Dax and I swore we’d spend time together at home like other couples do. As you’re well-aware.”