Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Sugarmama cut in, clicking her tongue. “And if you’re anything like me, you’ll be stumbling for a long while yet.”
I nodded, blinking hard, trying to keep it together.
“This doesn’t make you a terrible person,” Mom said softly.
“Well… it sure doesn’t feel like I’m a good one.”
I couldn’t bring myself to admit to them that I wasn’t sorry for anything I’d done with Ryder. I didn’t want to hurt Brooke or Ashton, but now that my resolve to let her have him had been undone, I wouldn’t be giving him up.
Mom let out a small sigh. “I don’t agree with how you two went about this,” she admitted, her brows pinching faintly before smoothing out again. “But in the same breath… I want to smack you both for creating unnecessary hurdles to get here. You’d be a fool to run from what you have now. That boy… he’s grown from adoring you to loving you out loud, without even needing to say it.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “Yes, you will do well to end things with the Hayes boy.”
“I thought you liked Ashton?”
“I think we can both agree Ashton’s a nice boy, but he was never going to be in that wedding photo I hang on my wall. That space has been filled with someone else since the day I brought you home. Maybe Ryder won’t be the one standing beside you then either, but if it doesn’t work out, we won’t love you any less. We’ll be no less proud of you.”
Sugarmama clicked her tongue, leaning back with a wicked glint in her eye. “I say while you’re waiting for him to make that photo a reality, it won’t hurt none to break the celibacy oath and have a few rolls in the sheets along the way.”
“Sugarmama!”
“It’s no different than test driving a car. No one makes that big of a commitment without at least ensuring it’s a good fit.”
“Ew, stop,” I pleaded.
Mom shook her head, exasperation and affection warring on her face. “And don’t think I didn’t give that boy hell either,” she added, a sharp glint in her eyes. “You’re my daughter first and foremost, and I will always look out for your heart.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or be deeply concerned.
Sugarmama laughed lightly. “See. Even she gave him the old birds and bees talk.”
“What? Mom, you didn’t.”
“That was not the basis of our talk,” she retorted, sounding offended. “I only told him you two need to be safe. If you’re old enough to do it, you’re big enough to discuss the less exciting parts.”
“The sticky parts,” Sugarmama chimed in.
“Ew,” I wrinkled my nose. “For the record, I’m current on my BC. I’ve never missed a shot.”
“Good,” Mom said, nodding firmly. “Because me and Tiff plan to enjoy a few more summers outside before we get our first grandbaby.”
“Summers… outside?”
“Yes,” she said, completely serious, brows lifted like she’d just dropped profound wisdom. “Isn’t that what you kids say? We’ll be outside?”
She looked so proud, so sure of herself. I didn’t want to laugh in her face. Then Sugarmama snickered, and that was it. I lost it. We both broke into laughter, leaning into each other, gasping for air. Mom just stood there, hands on her hips, demanding to know what was so funny. When we finally calmed down, Sugarmama patted my shoulder and went back to her crossword, still giggling.
“You can be outside, Mom,” I managed, wiping tears from my eyes, “Not like that. Papà would have a stroke.”
Mom’s lips pinched together, exasperated. “Enough of all this,” she declared, smoothing her apron. “I heard The Hunt is kicking off today.”
All my laughter fled. “You keep up with that, too?”
Papà strolled in and beelined for the lemon tarts, quickly popping one into his mouth. “Of course we do,” he jumped right into the conversation. “Our principessa is right in the middle of it.”
“Those are for brunch!” Mom scolded.
He grinned, licking powdered sugar off his thumb before planting a loud kiss on her lips. I swear to God, Mom actually blushed.
I watched him debating for a split second if I should just spill everything right then and there, but then I remembered exactly why that was a terrible idea. The girls couldn’t have told their parents about being Marked, or mine would know too.
“It just started,” I said, shrugging, trying to sound casual. “Nothing major yet.”
Papà chewed thoughtfully. “You know I was a Hunt champ?” he announced.
“You?”
He straightened even more, chest out like a proud rooster. “Two years in a row.”
I crossed my arms. “Marked or Huntsman?”
Papà gave me a look, eyes twinkling. “Does your father look like he’d ever be Marked?”
I was seriously starting to think it was because of their status and now ours, that none of them ever were. We all ended up Marked instead as some sins of the fathers’ ass karma.