Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
She knows they don’t need help; if they did, they’d ask for it. She just wants to leave me to think about what she said. And it works, because once again December is at the forefront of my thoughts as I make dinner for my mom and boys, and still long after I get to bed.
Which means I don’t fall asleep until I lose myself with my hand wrapped around my cock, thinking of December.
_______________
“I don’t know why we have to go to some fancy dinner. It’s not like Aunt Selma or Sejla even care if we’re there,” Max grumbles from the back seat as I pull into one of the empty parking spaces at the restaurant.
“You think they don’t care, but they do. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked us to come,” Mitchell snaps from the passenger seat at his brother in the back, sounding annoyed. It’s something that’s becoming more frequent whenever he deals with his little brother.
“I know they care about us, but they never care about these events. They don’t even wanna go most of the time, so I don’t see why we have to.”
He’s not wrong. My twin sisters, who are both in banking, couldn’t care less about these events, but each and every time they’re given something in their honor, they invite us. They are considered rock stars in the banking world, and the company they work for appreciates the amount of clients they’re able to secure, and also the big names attached to them and only them, from country singers to corporate clients. People trust them, because they are trustworthy and honest. They never let their clients make financial decisions without knowing exactly what they will be getting into, even if that means they have to hold off on a loan until they’re more financially secure.
“Hold on, you two,” I say, hearing both boys’ seat belts unlatch as I’m shutting down the engine. Once I have my belt unhooked, I turn in my seat to look at Max in the back. “How would you feel if we didn’t show up to one of the dinners the baseball team holds for you, your teammates, and their parents every year?” At my question, his lips press together and his eyes fill with understanding. “You’d be disappointed, even if you didn’t really want to be there. Am I right?”
“Yeah,” he mutters then looks at his brother, and his eyes narrow.
I glance to Mitchell and see he’s smirking. His eyes come to me, and the smirk slowly slides away as I shake my head. “Your brother is younger than you. He’s still learning. If I remember correctly, when you were his age, you had the same outlook on life that he does now. It’s your job as his big brother to show patience and to lead him down the right path. What you don’t do is act smug when you’re right about something.”
His eyes drop from mine as he says, “Sorry.”
“You don’t gotta be sorry.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and wait for him to look at me, and when he does, I continue gently, “This is just one more lesson you’ll learn in life, kid. A man never pretends he knows everything, and even if he happens to know something someone else doesn’t, he never acts smug about it. Instead, he appreciates the fact he’s able to help them learn something new.” When he nods, I tighten my fingers affectionately then let him go and look between both my boys. “I don’t like getting dressed up or going to these events any more than either of you do, but this is what family does. We show up when someone we love is celebrating, or even when they just need a shoulder to cry on.”
“You’re right,” Mitchell says, and I see Max nod out the corner of my eye.
“Now let’s go inside and help your aunts celebrate, with hopefully really great food. And if the food sucks, let’s pretend like we enjoy it while looking forward to the pizza we’ll pick up on the way home,” I tell them, getting two smiles before I open my door and get out.
I meet the boys near the trunk and we go inside. Once we tell the hostess who we’re meeting, she begins to usher us toward a private room in the back. Halfway across the crowded restaurant, I almost come to a complete stop when I recognize December, looking as beautiful as always, sitting at a table with a man I don’t recognize, along with her cousin Sage and his wife Kim.
“Dad,” Mitchell calls, obviously sensing my distraction, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes off December when she starts to laugh along with the man sitting way too fucking close to her.
“Dad, are you okay?” Max grabs my hand and attention, and I attempt to ignore the knife that suddenly seems to be jammed into my gut as I look at him.