Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I wiped my hand on the apron I was wearing, afraid I’d get grease on her, then took hers to shake it. “Cressida Beck,” I told her, impressed by the firm grip she had. I’d not expected that.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cressida.”
Two
Kash Savelle
Twenty-Five Years Old
It wasn’t like I was in college. Getting to go home for the holidays wasn’t a thing. My life was in Alabama. I hadn’t wanted it to be. But that wasn’t my decision. I’d made the mistake, and now I had to pay the price. I was just so fucking tired of it.
Tossing my duffel onto the bed in my childhood bedroom, I sighed. I should be happy that my dad had called and asked me if I’d like to spend the holidays here. And I was. But leaving was going to be hard after being back.
Slowly, my gaze took in the room. Everything was the same—well, almost. There were a few changes. Mostly the photos. There was only one left of the ones I’d had in here. I walked over to pick it up. Crosby Cash’s cocky grin made my chest tighten with sorrow. He had one arm thrown over my shoulders and another over my brother Forge’s. Than Carver had taken the photo. We looked like normal teenage boys; we were anything but. Death wasn’t something we feared until it was one of us that had been killed.
Since Crosby’s death, it had been harder for me to take a life. Even when they fucking deserved it.
“Thought you were coming next week.” My oldest brother’s voice interrupted my memories, and I set the frame back down before turning to look at Oz.
He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and his brows drawn together. Damn, he was looking more like Dad, the older he got.
“Mom wanted me home earlier once she found out I was allowed to come,” I replied.
Dad had told her on Thanksgiving because she had been down about my not being there. He had wanted to lift her spirits, but I doubted he had expected she’d demand that I come home immediately.
The corner of his lips quirked. “Her baby, back in his room.”
“Don’t be jealous that I’m the favorite,” I drawled.
He chuckled. “Surprised you’re staying here and not at Bane’s.”
“This is part of the deal. Dad said I had to stay here.”
Forge lived at Bane’s, and Oz had, too, until he married Winslet. Forge had been talking about moving into the Bowens’ place, but he hadn’t yet. Locke and Gathe Bowen had their own house, and neither of them was hooked up with a woman. Bane was married with a kid now, and life at his house wasn’t what it used to be.
Oz straightened and dropped his arms to his sides. “Must be Mom’s Christmas present this year. Having you under her roof.”
I’d thought the same thing. Especially when I walked in the door and she wrapped her arms around me and held on to me for several minutes. In truth, getting to come back and stay for any amount of time felt like my Christmas present. The last time I’d stayed here overnight was for Crosby’s funeral, and that had only been one night before I had to go back. When I had come home for Oz’s wedding, it had been a day trip.
“We’re having a second Thanksgiving tomorrow, I hear. One where you’re at the table too,” Oz said. “Think you can talk her into something besides turkey and dressing? I had my fill already.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’ve not had her dressing in years. Suck it up. I want that and her corn casserole.”
He groaned, then asked, “How’s Bama?”
I shrugged. “Fine.” Not Mississippi. Not home.
“I thought things were good there,” he said as he studied me closely.
“They are.”
We stood there silent for a moment. Oz was frowning as he waited for more. But I had nothing more to say about it.
“Doesn’t sound like it’s fine.” Concern was now in his tone.
“It’s not Madison. It’ll never be home.” Even after four years there, I still felt out of place. It was family, but not my family. I wanted to be here. I had grown up. I wasn’t the same hotheaded kid anymore.
“What about Noble’s daughter?”
Dwight Noble, head of the Alabama branch, would like his daughter, Jazz, to matter to me. We’d fucked, and I had tried to feel something for her. But she was so damn spoiled and whiny. It wore on my nerves. The fucking wasn’t good enough to make the rest of the package bearable.
“Not a thing,” I said. “We’ve fucked around, and she’s clingy, but I’ve never promised more.”
Oz cocked an eyebrow. “You’re just fucking around with Noble’s daughter?”
“Dixon fucked around with her before me. Except he wanted a relationship. She didn’t. Noble doesn’t care as long as she’s fucking inside the family.”