Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I veered into Sarah and Frank’s driveway and glanced at the gray manor, noting that the white trim was peeling on the eaves. Frank was a good guy, but he wasn’t a handyman, nor was he particularly observant. I doubted any real maintenance had been done on the house since…well, since I’d lived here.
On that sobering thought, I hopped out of the truck.
The front door opened with a bang as Chase raced to greet me on the porch with a toothy grin and a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Dad!”
“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?” I kissed the top of his head and squeezed him tight. He’d newly entered the “hugs and kisses are gross” phase so I’d resorted to stealing them and mussing his hair before he could complain.
“Good. Ivy’s fighting with Mom about girl stuff, but I’m ready.”
“Uh…great.”
Ivy appeared a moment later wearing a stormy expression and what looked like…eye shadow? She tilted her lips in an approximation of a smile, mumbled hello, and stalked toward my truck, her brother skipping a hedge to dodge his sister’s path.
“Shotgun!” he called.
She shrieked and ran after him.
Ahh. Sibling fights and pre-tween angst—a fun way to start the week.
Sarah crossed her arms, watching the kids like a mother hen. “I didn’t approve the makeup. Nora’s mom lets Nora wear blush and mascara, and Ivy thinks she’s old enough too.”
“O-kay.” I scrubbed my jaw and squinted. “Where’d she get it?”
“She bought it with a Sephora gift card Aunt Rhona gave her for Christmas and…welcome to our preview of the teenage years.”
Sarah didn’t bother hiding her exasperation. I understood and was equally unprepared for teenage rebellion, but I immediately tensed at the insinuation that I might be to blame…through my aunt. And yes, I was probably reading too much into it. Old habits were hard to break.
“I see. Do we have a standard line on makeup, or am I winging this?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I think we’re both winging it.”
“All right, then. I’ll do my best.” I was about to turn away, but at the last second, I asked, “Anything new about Frank’s job situation? You haven’t said anything and…I just wondered.”
“No. I think we’ve ruled out San Diego, though. It’s just too far away, and that’s fine. He has other options.”
That sounded extremely vague. “I see. Well, keep me updated.”
Sarah smiled wanly. “I will.”
There wasn’t much more to say, and it frustrated me. I’d been content with the radio silence for too long, but I couldn’t bury my head in the sand and hope everything would work out in my favor. It rarely did, anyway. According to the attorney I’d retained in Rutland, I had to be prepared to sift through the rough parts of our divorce if custody were to become an issue.
I was ready.
I had rights and if push came to shove, I’d fight for these two knuckleheads with everything I had.
With a curt nod, I strode to the truck, unclenching my fists and rearranging my features into something more pleasant for the kids’ sake.
“Yahoo! I get to be in charge of the entertainment,” Chase shimmied in his seat and lunged for the console. “Let’s listen to the haunted house story.”
“No one likes that story, Chase,” Ivy snapped sulkily from the back seat.
“Ivy…”
“It’s okay, Dad. She has sour grapes,” he intercepted in a surprisingly mature tone. “Ooh! This is where we left off last time. Shh!”
“…the wind howled, drowning the ghostly cry of the dark demon and…”
I caught Ivy’s eye in the rearview mirror and winked. She sighed but winked in return, then settled into the leather seats, seeming far more interested in the audiobook than she’d claimed to be.
The chapter ended as we crested the ridge to Wood Hollow. The ghost story had been a perfect reset from my niggling fear and anger and Ivy’s silent stewing.
I muted the volume and turned onto Red Oak Lane, where tendrils of new leaves brushed the top of the truck like a lazy curtain, filtering the afternoon sunlight into spun gold.
And there he was.
A golden man in snug jeans and black tee that showed off his broad shoulders and bulging biceps to perfection.
Silas glanced up from whatever he was looking for in the Jeep’s trunk and gave a friendly wave. Like any neighbor might. But my heart rose to my throat, and my mouth went dry at the sight of him. Jesus, I had it bad. Acting as though we were new friends for the sake of appearances might be a bigger challenge than I’d counted on.
Chase unbuckled his seat belt, craning his neck to get another glimpse of Silas. “Who’s that? Is he the football player?”
“Obviously, genius,” Ivy huffed sarcastically.
Chase ignored her and barreled on. “Mom said she heard he’s here again. We didn’t meet him last time. Can we meet him, Dad?”