Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Until we make the final turn and my stomach twists again.
It’s not his parents’ house that does it though. It’s the one just after it.
The familiar two-story I’ve avoided since I moved back.
My childhood home.
Two little girls dart across the lawn, shrieking with laughter. Suddenly, I’m ten years old again, barefoot in the grass, chasing butterflies and catching dandelion fluff with my sister beside me. Before life got complicated between us. Before she traded me for our parents’ approval.
The memory cuts through me like a jagged edge—bittersweet and impossible to bury.
“You okay?” Linc’s gentle voice pulls me back.
I blink, realizing we’ve parked, and that he’s been watching me stare at the house.
Forcing a smile, I lie. “Yep. All good.”
He doesn’t buy it. “Have you heard from any of them since we left?”
I shake my head. “My parents called a few times, but I didn’t answer. I’m not interested in what they have to say right now.”
Not sure I ever will be. Nothing they say can change the fact that they stood by and watched their daughter marry a man who doesn’t deserve her.
And yet, even through the anger, I can’t help worrying about my sister and what she might be facing behind closed doors. She doesn’t deserve my concern, not after choosing him. But the look in her eyes that day—the hesitation, like she almost considered following me—refuses to let go.
Thankfully, Linc doesn’t press any further. Instead, he lifts my hand, brushing his lips across my knuckles, the gesture saying more than words ever could.
“Come on, Goldilocks. Let’s do this.” He releases me, but the kiss still clings to my skin as he slips out to open my door.
I cradle the flower arrangement Ellie made and take his offered hand, letting him steady me as I step down. His grip is firm, and grounding—the kind of quiet confidence I cling to as we walk toward the house together.
The moment we enter, the unmistakable sound of roughhousing and laughter fills the air, rattling the walls—the kind of noise only a pack of grown men can make.
“Not in the kitchen!” Mrs. Masters’ voice cuts through the chaos, firm but affectionate. “You’re going to break something.”
A chorus of sheepish voices echo back. “Sorry, Ma!”
My grip tightens on Linc’s hand as I toe off my sandals and follow him into the kitchen.
Nate is the first to notice us. He’s propped against the counter like trouble is second nature, a slow grin curving as his gaze locks on me.
‘Well, well, well…look what big brother dragged in.’”
Every head turns at the announcement, greetings spilling across the room.
Mrs. Masters abandons her spoon mid-stir and hurries over, wrapping Linc up like she’s been waiting all week for this moment. “My oldest finally shows up for a Sunday dinner.”
He folds her into his arms without hesitation. “Hasn’t been that long, Ma.”
“Long enough.” Affection radiates through her words before she tips her head back, studying him. “You been staying out of trouble?”
His mouth curves into that cocky half-smile. “Of course. I’m the poster boy for good behavior, the family’s role model.”
His mother swats his chest with a laugh. “God help us all if that’s the case.”
Linc chuckles, shameless as ever, before guiding me forward with a hand at the small of my back. “Ma, you remember Harlow.”
Her gaze softens as it lands. “I sure do. It’s so nice to see you again, Harlow.” She leans in, careful of the flowers cradled in my arms, and folds me into a hug that is warm and unhurried—the kind I never grew up with.
“You too,” I murmur, my voice quiet. “Thank you for having me.”
“Of course.” She pulls back, her eyes sweeping over me with kindness. “My goodness…you’re even prettier than I remember.”
Heat climbs my neck, leaving me flustered. “Oh—thanks. Um, these are for you.” I thrust the flowers toward her, painfully aware of how awkward I’m being.
Her smile brightens as she accepts them, fingers brushing the petals. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, sweetheart.” The warmth in her tone lingers long after she turns away.
Linc’s father steps forward then—older, broader, and every bit as striking as his son. I extend my hand politely, but he bypasses it without hesitation, sweeping me into a bear hug that lifts me clean off the ground.
“Good to see you, darlin’,” he rumbles, his voice warm and gravelly. “Glad you could join us.”
I pat his shoulder, laughing a little as I fight for breath. “Me too.”
When he finally sets me back on my feet, Linc looks more than a little amused. He gestures toward the rest of the room. “I’m sure you remember these three boneheads, but I’ll remind you anyway.”
He starts with the youngest. “That’s Nate, holding up the counter over there.”
Nate gives a lazy wave, and I return it with a small one of my own.
“Heath, and his girlfriend, Laura,” Linc continues, nodding toward the couple at the table.