Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Cameron, honey, did you see I made your favorite?” She grips her husband, stumbling as she kicks off her flats. “And Brady’s too. I made Brady’s favorite. Well, his favorite dinner anyway. I love you two so much, and I’m just so happy you’re here.”
I fight a smile, glancing at Brady, who wipes his mouth to cover his laugh. “I can’t wait to dig in. Thank you.”
She walks over, soft hands cupping and patting my cheeks as she smiles at me, her eyes growing misty. “Oh, I can’t wait to have a daughter,” she sighs happily.
I tense, and Ben starts laughing, walking over to collect his wife.
“Okay,” Ben chuckles, wrapping his arm around her middle and turning her toward the stairs. “Let’s go on up to bed, shall we?”
“We shall, Mr. Lancaster,” she all but purrs, and Brady makes a gagging sound.
His dad just smiles. “Good night, you two.”
They start up the stairs, but Tisha stops about halfway up.
“Oh, Cameron, honey. Sorry but we had to put some logs on your bed, so you won’t be able to sleep in there tonight.”
My brows jump. “Logs? On the bed?”
“Mom, what the hell?” Brady chuckles.
Tisha grins and keeps going, but Ben pauses, lifting a hand into the air with a shrug. “She figured the only thing Cam wouldn’t move would be logs.”
A laugh sputters from me. “And why exactly did she not want me to sleep in the bed?”
Rather than answering, Ben lifts a brow and looks toward his son. “Good night, you two.”
Oh. Ohhh.
My cheeks grow red, but I pretend they don’t and move to sit on one of the pillows Brady set in front of the coffee table.
Melted, gooey goodness stares back at me in the form of a massive serving of baked mac and cheese, a perfect layer of Tapatio having been sprinkled over the top, just the way I like it.
“Wasn’t sure if you’d want any fried pork chop or not. We can have seconds if you do.” Brady sits beside me, his plate of mashed potatoes, fried pork chops, and white country gravy poured on top.
I lean in to get a better whiff.
He laughs, and my eyes snap up to his. “I’ll take that as a yes, you want some.”
“Maybe just a couple bites of yours.”
“I’ll share if you share.”
“Bet.”
We start eating, the TV on low in the background and fire popping in front of us.
“Did you take a shower?” I wonder.
Brady nods, chewing quickly so he can answer. “Used my parents’ right quick. I don’t have those goldilocks to get through, so I’m more of a two-minute man.”
“Are you now?”
His head snaps my way, and I swear, his neck flushes a little. “That is not what I meant.”
“Mm-hmm, sure.”
“Cameron.”
I laugh, covering my mouth so I don’t spit food all over the place. I swallow, taking a quick drink from the glass of soda sitting there. “Trust me, Brady. I don’t think there’s a woman on campus who would believe that if they heard it.”
“Yeah, well, people shouldn’t believe all the things they hear,” he mumbles, shoveling food into his mouth.
A small scowl forms, and I think about his words for a moment. “Is it hard?”
“What?”
“Getting that much attention? Having people on you all the time and fighting people off?”
Brady takes another bite before answering. “It is.” I wonder if he might not say anymore, but then he continues. “I thought I knew how to handle people, since it was sort of the same in high school, you know, but all that leveled up at Avix to an intensity I hadn’t prepared myself for. Suddenly it wasn’t shy, or not-so-shy, schoolgirls but grown-ass almost-feral women. They know what they want, and they aren’t afraid to go out and try to get it. It’s kind of surprising how many people prefer the hook up and hustle out.”
“Do you… I mean, is that not…” What are you trying to say, cringey girl?
Brady smirks my way. “Is that not…?”
I glare and he chuckles. Fine, I’ll say it. “Is that not what you want?”
Brady’s knife slows as he cuts into the half-gone slab of meat. Slowly, his eyes find mine and hold. “No.”
No.
Not no, not anymore or no, I never wanted that. Just a solid and sure no.
“Oh.”
Brady watches me closely, something steeling in his gaze.
“What?”
“I want to tell you one of my secrets.”
My gaze gentles. “Okay. But if you think you have to because of all my word vomit today or the conversation at breakfast, you don’t.”
“It’s not that—well, it is but…” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Ben isn’t my biological dad.”
My brows jump, mouth falling open just slightly, but I can’t quite get any words out before he continues, more to himself than me.
He huffs, shaking his head. “I don’t even like saying that. The words ‘isn’t’ and ‘dad’ shouldn’t be in the same sentence when it comes to us.”