Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I know I should be offended by that,” Trey says with a chuckle. “But I totally get what you’re saying. My mom’s one of a kind.”
“That she is,” I murmur.
“Okay,” he says, breaking the embrace and taking my hand. “Close this place up and let’s grab dinner. Then I’m on a mission to get my brother’s head out of his ass.”
CHAPTER 17
Trey
Dinner with Holland was perfect. I took her to Rosie’s and we had burgers and hand-cut fries. We got some sidelong looks from a few patrons, people who know me, know Holland and now see us together. My hand on her leg didn’t go unnoticed and word will be around town by tomorrow that we’re dating.
Except we’re so much more than that.
We spent the meal not talking about her mom or my brother, but rather what we’d like in a house. Holland doesn’t want to live in town the way I do but wants to live closer to the farm. She’s even open to living in Kat’s apartment above the tack room since Kat is staying at Gabe’s place, but I want something more homelike. I want a yard, and a fence, and I want to get a dog too.
With our meal finished, it didn’t feel right parting ways. I drove her to her mom’s, but it wasn’t the way our evening was supposed to end. We should have been able to go to my house and hang out with Wade—and if Wade weren’t being a jackass, we could.
But instead, I walked her to her mom’s door, which opened as soon as I was giving her a good-night kiss. Holland hadn’t said anything to her mom about our relationship and she never knew about it back when we were teenagers. She never discussed those things with her mom.
Debbie’s jaw dropped and I nodded at her with a smile. I gave Holland another kiss and told her I’d see her tomorrow as we made plans to meet for breakfast before I have to head to work.
On the way to my house, I mull over the best way to approach Wade. I want to be respectful to him, but I won’t take a continual barrage of the same old bashing. I’ll let him get it out of his system, I’ll give him a heartfelt apology and even beg his forgiveness if I have to, then I want to fucking hug it out and be done with it.
I want my brother back. I want him to be happy for me the way the rest of the family is, and I want us all to be friends again. To achieve that, I know I’m going to have to swallow some pride, curb my anger and kiss his ass.
But I’ll do it.
I’m relieved to see Wade’s truck in the driveway and I pull up beside it, cutting the engine. I take a few beats, walk myself through another pep talk and head into the house.
I hear the TV when I enter and glancing over to the living room, I see Wade sitting on the couch, legs kicked up on the coffee table, a beer in his hand.
Thinking to match his vibe, I grab a beer from the fridge, twist the cap and toss it in the garbage. I take a long sip, but Wade doesn’t look my way, eyes pinned on some fishing show.
I walk into the living room and lean against the small wall that separates it from the kitchen. I stare at him but he ignores me.
“Can we talk?” I ask, my voice level and calm.
He doesn’t look at me, just takes another swig of his beer. “Got nothing to say to you.”
I tamp down the anger and frustration. “I want things to be right between us,” I begin, stepping closer. “I know I fucked up—”
Wade finally turns to me, his eyes glacial. “You want things to be right?”
“I do,” I say simply. “Tell me what it will take.”
Tipping his head back to study the ceiling, he says, “Hmm.” His eyes slide to me. “Break up with Holland. That will prove to me how much you regret that whole fucking charade and the lies you fed me.”
I frown at him. “Break up with Holland? Why?”
Wade smirks and shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d have a chance with her then.”
Rage simmers through my veins but I know my brother. He doesn’t want a chance with Holland. He wants to make me suffer and I keep that in mind, calling on a deeper well of patience. “Not going to break up with Holland. But I’ll apologize. Beg forgiveness.” I try for a little levity. “I’ll wash your truck for six months.”
Wade isn’t amused. “Fuck you and your apology.”
Anger flares but I keep it in check. “Wade, I didn’t handle things well, I know that. But we can’t keep fighting like this. Holland and I—”