Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The men are returning.
Dylan, Corbin, and Harrison. Jaxon walking beside Levi, Lennon at the back, McCartney laughing at something Cody says, and Nash trailing quietly behind. Brody’s missing.
They’re dust-streaked and heading home after early chores.
Home.
It felt like that. It did. I don’t know how it happened, but this place, this family, got under my skin and into my heart and made me believe that I could belong.
God, what have I done?
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, but the tears keep coming. I keep driving because I have no other choice. These eleven men were looking for a loyal woman to fill a gap in their lives, and all I’ve done is prove to them I’m not her.
45
BRODY
From the barn, I catch the tail end of Conway’s argument with Grace and her SUV kicking up dust as it pulls away down the long driveway, back tires fishtailing a little where she punched the gas harder than she should. I don’t blame her. After what Conway said to her, leaving was her only option.
I lean against the fence post; jaw clenched, hands filthy from morning chores, eyes gritty with tiredness and dust. My focus should be on the cattle or what needs fixing today: the busted gate, the irrigation line Conway wanted checked. But all my focus is on her brake lights fading like a goodbye I wasn’t ready for.
From the start, Grace felt wrong to me. She was too polished, too fast-talking, too city girl. I didn’t believe she belonged outside of her concrete world of quick words and glamor. I thought she’d flinch before she got any dirt under her nails and lose her mind at the muck and the smells and noise and the work.
But the longer she was here, the more I had to work to convince myself she was wrong for us. She found a way to fit in with every man in this place and had the kids smiling and happy whenever she was near. I found myself wanting to believe in her and in the whole stupid dream, but I’m never the one who jumps in headfirst. I was never going to be the one to say she’s the one we need to fight for. Doubt is always the strongest voice in my head. Stronger than the words spoken by my own heart.
But now that I’ve heard what she said to Conway, the way her voice cracked in a way it’s impossible to fake, all my doubts have quieted. She didn’t defend the article—hell, she was ashamed of it. That wasn’t a performance. That was heartbreak.
And now she’s gone, and it’s too fucking late for me to believe in her, to believe in what my brothers and cousins have been searching for.
I kick a rock with the toe of my boot, watching it skitter across the dirt. I should be relieved. I say, “I told you so,” to the whole damn house when I walk in for breakfast. But the thing sitting heavy in my chest doesn’t feel like victory. It feels like a loss.
And it’s not only mine. They’re all gonna feel it. Every single man who let her in and who let themselves hope. They’ll feel it like a gut punch when they find out.
I wait until I’ve counted them all back into the house and follow them into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee,, frying eggs, and bacon greeting me. The usual clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation seem muted. Corbin stands by the stove, flipping pancakes with mechanical precision. His shoulders are tense, and his usual easygoing demeanor is replaced with a tight-lipped focus. Conway sits at the head of the table, his hands clasped together, eyes fixed on a spot on the tablecloth. The others sit, one by one, each sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
A heavy silence, the kind that settles in when everyone knows something’s wrong, but no one wants to say it, takes over the room. Even the kids must sense it. Eli and Junie bound into the room, their laughter momentarily breaking the tension, but they look around and stop dead, their gazes skirting over everyone. Corbin turns to them, forcing a smile. “Why don’t you two watch some cartoons in the den and leave the daddies and uncles to talk?” he suggests.
The girls exchange surprised glances. “Really?” Junie asks, her eyes lighting up but then narrowing with suspicion.
“Really,” Corbin confirms, handing them each a plate of pancakes.
They scamper off, plates in hand, leaving the adults in the kitchen. The silence returns, heavier than before. I take a seat at the table, the chair creaking under me. My gaze shifts to Conway, who finally looks up, his expression grim.
“Grace is gone,” he announces, his voice flat.
A collective intake of breath follows. Corbin’s spatula clatters on the stovetop. Jaxon flops against the chair back like the wind got knocked out of him.