Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
The weight of his stare blankets me like a shroud. I refuse to be scared of him, and I won’t let that control me anymore. Releasing a deep breath, I turn to him, ready to face his wrath.
He drops forward, his forearms to his legs, and hangs his head down. I’m not sure what to make of it. I reach over and touch his back, realizing I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this close to him. “Dad?”
Turning his head, he looks at me. “Is that Julie Ann’s son?”
“Her eldest.”
When he sits back, a breath is knocked from him. “Destiny, karma, the universe always finds a way.”
I sit back, feeling small like I’m supposed to be learning some great lesson as I soak in the knowledge. It’s just ramblings that make no sense out of context. “What does that mean?”
“I respect your mother. I haven’t made it easy on her, and she still stood by me, holding the family together, keeping our name out of the gossip groups and gutter.” He casually angles toward me like we do this all the time. God, I wish we had. “Julie Ann Greene.” He sighs, messing with a button on his jacket. “You want to know what’s in those books? You want to know why the Dovers and Greenes chose a fight instead of being allies?”
“I do. I want to know all that because I can’t find anyone else who does. They don’t even know why we supposedly dislike them.”
That manages a grin out of him. Not a full one, but one that shows the story entertains him. “Seven generations back, the families settled here at the same time, became friends, and you can imagine,” he says, spinning his hand briefly to fill in what I assume might be the naughty parts a.k.a. the good part. “What happened after that? Someone fell in love. Someone got hurt. They stopped speaking and remained on bad terms.” He looks younger somehow when he seems happy. Is he happy? I am. This is the dad I always wanted him to be—talking, showing interest in me, treating me like I matter.
“That was a long time ago. We’re still holding grudges because of a broken heart from seven generations back?”
“We Dovers are good at grudges.”
“We sure are.” The story has me thinking whose heart got broken? “It had to be the Dovers with the broken heart.”
His interest has him sitting straighter and eyes widening. “Why do you say that?”
“Because we’re the ones holding the grudge. They’re not.”
A humorless laugh escapes him as his brows knit together. “They’re not? At all?”
“Nope. Not at all. They’re very happy, actually.”
Seemingly stunned by this information, he replies, “Remarkable.” He touches my arm like we’re close. An ache in my chest floats to the surface. Maybe one day. This conversation gives me hope. “The story doesn’t end there.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No, it gets better.” Did he just waggle his eyebrows? “Five generations ago, a girl from the Greenes and a boy from the Dover clan ran away together. No one knew what became of them. Could’ve been killed. Texas was a lot wilder back then. Could have gone off to Hawaii and lived their remaining days on the beach.” When he shrugs, his shoulders relax instead of stiffening again. “It’s a mystery I’ve investigated many times over the years. Their tracks end just west of San Antonio.”
“That’s sad. Doesn’t sound like they got very far.”
“But I think they did.” Excitement glimmers in his eyes. “One day, I hope to prove it.”
“I could help you with that.”
He smiles. HE smiles. It’s genuine and real. “That might be a fun project to do together.” Griffin and Jacob have their puzzling. My dad and I can solve family mysteries together.
Leaning in, he rests his arm on the chair closer to me. “Three generations from mine—”
“There’s more? I’m so invested. Who knew our history went back that far with them?”
“I did.”
“Oh right.” I’ll just clamp my mouth shut and let him finish telling the story.
“So three generations back, my great-grandparents had ten kids. One got pregnant by a Greene—”
“Seems it runs in the family,” I joke, nudging him with my elbow. The joke doesn’t land. Oops. “Sorry, go on.” I zip my lips and try to keep myself from thinking we’re further along than we are. Baby steps. Or maybe he just doesn’t appreciate one-night stand humor. It’s probably that when I think about it. Then a random thought occurs that has me sweating on the spot. “Oh my God, please don’t tell me I’m related to Griffin.”
He sighs, but his expression doesn’t harden. I’m kind of waiting for that to happen. Unkind? Possibly, but a few words with dad’s personal interest don’t negate the disrespect he walked in with. But for now, I’ll try to enjoy the moment in case all things change at the stroke of midnight.