Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“No. But I like your name.”
I shook my head, nuzzling his hair. “My whole life, I kind of hated my name. There’s undoubtedly a story behind the name my dad picked, but I never knew more than that he picked it and my mom hated it. Denver felt like something I was saddled with. But you make it feel…special.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Sean shifted so he could press a kiss to my mouth. “And you are special.
“Thanks.” I released another big yawn. “Think I’m gonna sleep all afternoon after that.”
“Good.” He settled down against my shoulder before popping his head up again. “We have till dinner time. I might have volunteered us to help.”
I gave a good-natured huff. “Well, as it happens, I have the night off.”
“Hey, as part-owner, you’ll be able to set your own schedule.”
“I will.” I grinned at him, weeks and months stretching ahead of us when I might be able to coordinate our days off. For the first time, the thought of a future with him wasn’t terrifying. It was reassuring, the idea that we’d have time to figure things out.
“Think you could get this Sunday off? Or at least be awake around lunchtime?”
I raised my own head to give him a stern look. “What else did you volunteer me for, Murphy?”
“Nothing big.” His sheepish smile said otherwise. “Just family dinner with my folks.”
“No big deal.” I gathered him close again, but it was a big deal. A very big deal. Suddenly, the reassuring thought of a future transformed into a tight pressure across my chest. What if I screwed this up before we even got started?
Chapter Thirty
Sean
“Nervous?” Denver asked as I parked on my parents’ street under a tree a couple of houses down from the one where I’d grown up. We’d driven together since parking could be tight in this subdivision, especially when multiple Murphy family members were visiting. As was the case with most Sunday afternoons, my parents’ end of the cul-de-sac and driveway looked like a used car lot.
“Nervous? Me?” My voice sounded high and tight, and my pulse had been revving since I’d woken from a morning nap. I’d been on duty until six, then home, that lovely new word, to the carriage house with Denver, and gotten a good five-hour snooze before it was time to get ready for the gathering at my parents. “I’m not nervous. Why? Are you nervous?”
“Sean. Take a breath.” Denver set a hand on my thigh. His tone was soothing, but his mouth and eyes were tense. He’d also changed shirts twice, finally settling on a short-sleeved blue one with buttons with a vaguely tropical vibe that worked with his pulled-back hair and trimmed beard. “It’s okay if you’re a little…on edge. I get it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck things up as well.”
“Oh.” I swiveled to meet his gaze. Because Denver carried himself so confidently, it was easy to forget he struggled with self-worth. And those issues hadn’t magically gone away when he’d decided to stay in town. He had the ridiculous notion that I could do better. My neck tightened. I was the one who was at risk of not being a good boyfriend, not him. “I’m not afraid about anything you’ll do. I’m worried the Murphy clan is about to run you off. We can be a bit…much.”
The volume level alone of most family meals had me concerned that someone like Denver, who’d ridden solo for so long, would head for the hills. “I’ve told you about my mom’s Disney obsession, right? And each of my sisters’ various kids play different sports. Keeping track can be hard and—”
“I’m not going to hate your family, okay?” Denver squeezed my leg again. “And if they’re rude about us being together, I’ll simply quietly seethe until we can be alone later.”
“So far, everyone seems cool. Which is cool, right?” Hell. I was rambling again. And yeah, I was nervous, had been nervous ever since Denver had accepted my invitation. And this whole coming-out thing was weird. After I’d talked to my father, I’d talked to my mom, who’d talked to my sisters, who’d likely talked to the whole darn town. But all that talking meant a lot of texts and calls. Even when things went well, the number of awkward conversations took a toll. “Sorry. I just don’t want to mess this up. Or make you regret deciding to stay.”
There it was. My real fear. Denver struggled to believe he was good enough for me, while I struggled to believe I could be reason enough for him to stay. My worry wasn’t simply about Denver’s nomadic ways but rather my own self-worth battles. For so long, I’d tried to be who others expected of me, so I was getting used to being with someone I could be myself with without an invisible measuring stick.