Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Sofie’s eyes widen and snap to mine.
“A married man? What? Who said…what?”
“Walsh, Sofie.” Who did she think I meant? “Do you still have feelings for Walsh?”
“Oh! No, of course not.” What looks like relief settles over her face. “I mean, for a long time I resented Kerris because I thought she took something that should have been mine, but I realize it never was. It took me a while, but I got over it.”
“But you and Walsh did date for a while, right?”
“Briefly, but it was right after Kerris married Cam, Walsh’s best friend. I sensed Walsh had feelings for her and swooped in. Kind of a rebound thing. It didn’t last. Between Walsh and me, nor between Kerris and Cam. He’s married to Walsh’s cousin Jo now.”
“Wait. Kerris used to be married to Walsh’s best friend? And Cam…what?”
What kind of twisted mess have I stepped into?
“It’s complicated.” Sofie laughs and shakes her head. “I guess everyone ended up where they were supposed to be in the end. The four of them paired off, and me…”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Well, me right back where I was before.” She raises guarded eyes. “Me, playing the field. On the loose. Emphasis on loose. Isn’t that what they say about me?”
“Why would I listen to secondhand information when I have you here and can get it from the horse’s mouth?”
“Oh, I’m a horse now, am I?”
We share a smile, both returning to our plates and our own thoughts for a few minutes.
“What about your parents?” I venture after a few more bites. “Were you close growing up?”
“Not really.” Sofie drags her fork through the remains of her salad. “You’ve met them. We weren’t exactly the model family. My father…well, let’s just say the only deal he needed me to close, I never could, and that was Walsh.”
She shrugs, glancing around the room before returning her eyes to me.
“I didn’t help matters by deciding not to go to college, modeling, living the way I have.” Sofie’s lashes drop, casting shadows on her cheeks in the candlelight. “I’m over disappointing him.”
No she’s not. It’s obvious that she’s a daddy’s girl to a daddy who doesn’t care enough. If I didn’t have reason to dislike Ernest Baston before, I have it now.
“You’re so successful, Sof.” I reach across and hold her hand. “He should be proud.”
“Well, he’s not.” A fake laugh slips between her lips. “Not sure my mother is either, frankly. I think she was more disappointed about Walsh than my father and I were.”
“You two weren’t ever close either?”
“I always thought I was too much like my father for my mother to like me.” Sofie gestures to her face and hair. “Physically, yes, but maybe deep down, I’m just like him, and she sees it. And being as close to him as she is, knowing him the way she does and how he’s hurt her, I can’t imagine she’d want to risk it with someone so like him. At least that’s why I assumed we were never close.”
“You’re not like him.” I squeeze her slim fingers. “I don’t believe we’re held captive to our parentage. We make choices about who we want to be. Everything isn’t in our control, but the most important things are. Kindness, compassion, character. If I thought you were anything like your father, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, no matter how gorgeous you are.”
Sofie looks at me, humor alive in her vibrant green eyes.
“Good to know you’re not completely immune to my looks.”
My eyes travel over the flawless face, the silvery hair, the fine bones in her shoulders, the high, full breasts. I’m not immune. Matter of fact, if there’s a vaccine for the way I feel when I look at Sofie, I don’t want it.
“I wouldn’t say immune, no.”
She drops her lashes and dips her head, freeing her eyes from the connection burning the air between us across the candlelit table.
“So enough about me,” she says. “Let’s talk about you.”
I set my elbows on the table, holding my chin in one hand.
“I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”
“Family?” She widens her eyes and smiles. “Please tell me yours is better than mine.”
I feel my face relax and an almost involuntary smile take over.
“My family is amazing.”
“Figures.”
We laugh together for a moment before I continue.
“There’s seven of us kids.”
“Seven?” Sofie doesn’t try to hide her astonishment. “That’s like a litter.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“Mama didn’t have us all at once like puppies, Sofie. My mother’s Irish Catholic. There were gonna be lots of kids.” I shake my head at how different our upbringings were. “There’s five girls and my brother and me.”
“I always wanted a brother or a sister. A big family sounds kind of great.”
“It had its moments.” Memories of our fights and squabbles and good times as kids make me smile. “We didn’t have much. Mama was a teacher, and my pops was a postman, so with seven kids, every dollar was stretched pretty thin. Lots of hand-me-downs.”