Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
It took a beat, but then he said, “You’re right. He’d want that.”
“You tell her your dad’s last words?”
It was forced when Carlyle said, “No.”
“You need to find a time to do that, man. She should know.”
“Yeah,” Carlyle said low.
They were silent another while before Carlyle again cleared his throat and stated, “You know, we got friends. Family. But when I go off to college—”
Dutch didn’t make him finish.
“I’ll look after them.”
He wasn’t looking at the guy, but he still felt him relax.
“I think, uh…the first time I go, you know, if I, um, lose it or something, I should, uh…without them…”
He felt Carlyle’s eyes, so he turned his head to look at him.
“Will you take me to his grave?” he asked.
“You wanna go now?” Dutch asked in return.
“Yeah, if you—”
Dutch pushed up to his feet, saying, “Let’s go.”
Carlyle pushed up too, but he did it with his eyes to Graham Black’s grave. “Do you want a minute to say goodbye?”
Dutch looked down at the tombstone and said, “Later, Dad.”
A burst of quick, deep laughter came from Carlyle and Dutch returned his attention to the kid.
“Just like that?” he asked.
“Sure,” Dutch said. “My dad was a seriously laidback guy.”
Carlyle was grinning as he bent to grab his throw.
Dutch nabbed his.
They were walking to Dutch’s truck when Carlyle queried, “You think your dad would like me?”
He told him the truth.
“My dad liked everybody.” Dutch lifted his hand and squeezed the back of Carlyle’s neck and left it there before he finished, “But he’d really fuckin’ like you.”
Carlyle did the same to Dutch’s neck and replied, “My dad would dig you too.”
They held on that way for a bit, until they both felt it was weird, then they let go and finished walking to the truck.
They got in.
And Dutch drove Carlyle to go visit his dad.
* * * *
“Babe,” he growled into the phone.
And he’d become accustomed to the growling gig considering Georgiana was now a fixture in his life, and proof was that night they were celebrating their one-month anniversary, or what Georgiana had declared was their one-month anniversary. That being one month from when he picked her up from the airport.
She’d made them a reservation at the Palace Arms.
He’d set Tyra and Elvira on a mission.
Which was where he was heading to discover the results, with his phone to his ear, listening to his woman say shit that did not make him happy.
“Dutch,” was her only response.
“I thought this decision was made,” he said, and pointed out, “by you.”
“She’s sold so much stuff, it’s insane. I’ve seen the receipts. And she’s working so many shifts, she’s bleary-eyed. The only good part about that is she’s not at Dad’s much, because if she hears another football game droning in the background, she might bomb NFL headquarters. And if she wakes up to Michelle making her breakfast to order again, she might throw herself off a cliff.”
“Dutch!”
He stopped on his way from the shop, across the forecourt, heading to Tyra’s office at the garage, when he heard Rush’s call.
He looked toward the Compound, saw Rush jogging his way, and jerked up his chin to the brother.
“And she’s going to pay rent,” Georgie finished in his ear.
“How ’bout you give her more time to prove herself,” he suggested.
“Is this another conversation?” she asked.
And her tone was one he didn’t like.
“What kind of conversation?” he asked back.
Rush stopped in front of him and Dutch gave him a one-minute finger.
“Maybe I made an assumption,” she muttered.
“What assumption?” he pushed.
“I haven’t left your house since I entered it, I mean, in that way. Half my clothes are at your place, you gave me three drawers, and you only have six. All my toiletries…”
Yup.
They were That Couple.
Met. Didn’t hit it off with a bang. Hit it off with a bigger bang. Now inseparable.
He sensed his mother was moderately worried, though only moderately.
For his part, Dutch would probably tie Georgie to his bed if she tried to spend the night alone at her place.
“…I thought since I wasn’t using it, and Carolyn’s going to pay rent, since I was—”
“You’re moved in, Georgie, maybe not officially, but only because we’ve been busy. Let Carolyn crash at your pad. We’ll discuss how and when we’ll make our sitch official when we have time.”
She sounded dubious, and a little freaked, when she asked, “You sure?”
He gave Rush a look, and Rush turned his attention elsewhere as Dutch gave the man his shoulder and said, “This isn’t about us. We’re solid. You slept anywhere but beside me, even if we’re fightin’, I’d lose my mind. It’s about her. She did my brother dirty. Fucked with your head. You might be there with her, but I’m not. Not yet. But it’s not my pad. You’re okay with it, then I’m okay with it. But the minute she jacks you over for rent, we’ll have another discussion. Deal?”