Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Including Gage and Sully, Gage taking a break from studies he’d finally found interest in at U of A, Sully flying in from the new job with an alternative energy operation he got in Texas after graduating from Purdue.
Sul was taking a year for experience then making the decision to go after his master’s and concentrate on that alone, or do it while still employed.
But now, they were all converging, including Matt, Sash and Hale, it was just that he and Chloe got there first.
“So walk, smile, nod, and if you don’t want to step and repeat, just keep walking. They’ve got people there who can handle getting you through without disruption,” Genny kept on.
“We’re in for the full thing, Genny. I’ll be all right. I have a six thousand dollar suit I need to show off anyway,” he said, setting their bags by the door and moving into a massive, open, bright space with an insane view of the ocean and the coolest furniture he’d ever seen.
But the burn from his woman’s eyes took his attention off it as she shot him a scorching look.
He jutted his chin at her teasingly.
He knew his suit “only” cost five thousand.
But the other shit he’d be wearing put it well over six.
“I’m afraid that’s something we’ll never break her from, darling,” Genny replied on a sigh.
He was grinning when he stopped looking around, taking in the space.
He also stopped dead.
“This will be good,” Genny went on to mumble. “Practice for the wedding.”
Vaguely, he thought of that and how Chloe described Genny and Duncan’s wedding as an event that was going to be “subdued, but still sensational.” That meant it was going to be small (ish). It was also going to be happening soon.
Not in LA.
In Prescott.
“See you tonight. Give my love to Chloe,” Genny bid.
“I can hear you, Mom,” Chloe called.
“Right, darling. Bowie and I’ll be there around six. So will your dad. Jamie and Dru are staying closer to you so they might be there earlier. Do not cook! We’ll order when we get there.”
Judge tore his gaze from what he was looking at to catch his woman’s scowl.
What was left unsaid was that Paloma would be here too.
Her father was dating someone.
Chloe detested her.
Tom was coming to the premiere.
And bringing her.
Judge had to admit, he was with Chloe. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly bugged him about Paloma, but she wasn’t right for Tom.
Or maybe it was that definitely Chloe, but also Judge felt no one would be good enough for him.
Except, sadly, Genny.
“Okay, Mom. See you soon,” Chloe said.
“Yeah, Gen, see you soon,” Judge added.
“Love you both.”
In unison, they replied, “Love you more.”
He hung up and now Chloe was smirking at him, because he’d fallen into that Pierce-Swan-Holloway habit of the “love you more” thing (mostly doing this with Chloe). It wasn’t the first they’d chatted together with her mom on speakerphone, so it wasn’t the first time it happened, and he knew his woman really dug that unison gig.
She opened her mouth, probably to say something smug, but he got there before her.
“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to a framed picture with his phone.
She walked up to where he stood at the mantel over the fireplace and peered at the photo.
“I think that’s me. And Grandma. With Uncle Corey.”
He knew it was her.
Chloe, as a baby.
The polka-dot bathing suit with a skirt. The curl of dark hair you could just barely see coming out from under her sun hat.
Sasha was blonde.
The photo was black and white, but you could still see.
Judge studied a picture of Szabo and Chloe’s grandma standing out on a beach, her grandma in a dark bathing suit, Szabo in linen pants and shirt, and then he stared at Chloe standing beside him.
And carefully, he asked, “Do you see this picture, baby?”
“Yeah, I think Gramps took it. He had a thing for photography. He was always taking candids of people when they didn’t know he was doing it.”
He turned again to the photo.
Corey Szabo, who was unmistakable, was holding her to his chest like she was his own child.
Treasured.
Precious.
Beloved.
And her grandmother, who was a looker, was smiling at them, smiling at them both, with all three of those things in her face.
He then glanced around.
And after that, he urged, “Chloe, honey, look around.”
She finally gathered his tone, grew attentive, then she gazed around.
She ended on him.
“What do you see?” she asked quietly.
“There are pictures everywhere,” he told her. “A lot of them. All in groupings. But there is only one right here. Only one, pride of place. There’s nothing else on this mantel, not your mother. Not Hale. Nothing. Except you, and your grandmother, and your uncle.”
He saw her body still, but her gaze drifted back to the photo.
“He adored her,” she whispered.
“He adored you,” he whispered back.