Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“And good morning to you too, Lawrence.” He set a folded newspaper on the table beside him. “I saved the sports section for you.”
“Vols win?” he asked, stirring his breakfast without taking the first bite.
Football season was long over, and yet his answer was still. “Yep. Kicked the shit out of Bama.”
He nodded, lifting the spoon to his mouth for the tiniest bite.
“Hey there, Superstar,” Terry said, wrapping me in a hug. “We were all really sorry to hear about Marty, but it’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be home.” I patted his back, not sure if I’d lied or not.
Holding my shoulders, he set me away, his gaze landing on the steri-strips covering the cut on my forehead. “You sure you’re okay?”
I offered him a tight smile. “Yeah. It’s nothing.” That was definitely a lie.
My dad let out a loud whistle, silencing the room. “Has anyone seen Clara?”
Terry plopped down in the chair beside him. “Actually, I passed her on the way out. Said she was headed to the grocery store. Mind if I join you for breakfast?” He snapped off a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth.
My father’s jaw just about came unhinged. “Yes, I fucking do mind. Get the hell out of my house.”
Totally unfazed, Terry grinned. “Okay, but I’m taking Jenn with me. You gonna be good with Lofton for a while?”
My father’s back shot straight, his whole face sparking to life. “Lofton’s coming home?”
I stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m right here, Daddy.”
His excitement was immediately extinguished. “Your name’s Lofton too? That’s my little girl’s name.”
I pretended it didn’t feel like a knife to the gut.
I pretended it was sweet that he remembered he had a daughter at all.
But most of all, I pretended I wasn’t a broken and drowning thirty-two-year-old woman who desperately needed her father back.
“What a coincidence,” I replied quietly.
Oblivious to the shards of my heart shattering on the floor at my feet, he silently went back to picking at his food.
“Can I borrow you for a minute?” Jenn said, grabbing my arm. “Terry, can you…” She waved a finger between him and my dad.
“On it,” Terry replied, leaning back in the chair. He was no doubt about to get cussed up one wall and down the other, but such was life with this version of Lawrence Beck.
I followed my sister out the back door and into the grass where we’d be safely hidden from the windows—and my father.
Devon rounded the house, his dark gaze scanning me from head to toe.
“It’s all good,” I told him. “He’s calm now and eating breakfast.”
He nodded, his long, muscular legs devouring the distance between us. He didn’t touch me when he stopped in front of me, but his scrutiny was tangible.
As he loomed over me, my pulse quickened. Not romantic. Not sexual. Just biology being seriously inconvenient.
“And what about you?” he asked in a quiet rumble. “You good too?”
His concern made my stomach dip.
Great, my pulse and my stomach betraying me at the same time.
Super seriously inconvenient.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Thanks.”
Jenn flicked her gaze between us. “Who are you? And why are you so damn hot?”
I would have laughed, but I was too busy trying not to go up in flames from the aforementioned temperature.
He kept his gaze on me for a beat longer, and then looked to her, his hand extended. “Devon Grant.”
“Jenn Gotham.” She took his hand for a quick shake, dropping it as Apollo wandered over, a cigarette dangling in his fingers. Her eyes narrowed on him. “What did I tell you about coming inside in slacks?”
“These are jeans!” he defended.
The minute he got close enough, my sister snatched the cigarette and snuffed it out on the ground. “Those things will kill you, but worse, my dad thinks I’m a teenager today and if go back in there smelling like smoke, his head will explode.” She pointed a finger at his pants. “And those are designer black jeans that look like dress pants. Don’t even get me started on that stupid button-down. Workers don’t wear that crap. What happened to that pair of Terry’s Levi’s I gave you?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be inside today, but someone covered the camera with a piece of duct tape last night.” The blonde twenty-something crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. “Funny enough, it went dark about the time Terry used a ladder to sneak into the bedroom. You’re an adult. Use the fucking door.”
My brows shot up, and I had to bite my lip to stifle a laugh.
Jenn’s face flashed through a spectrum of reds. Everything from a pink blush to an embarrassed shade of cherry, but unfortunately for Apollo, it ended on an angry crimson. “You shouldn’t have cameras in the bedroom to begin with.”