Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
It reminded me of what my little mouse told me about making friends naturally, and I agreed. Turner’s wife did text her, and they have been texting ever since. It turned out Sophie hadn’t been sick after all, Tova had informed me; she was pregnant.
Then she swore me to secrecy, because they weren't telling people yet. I promised her I wouldn't tell a soul. I guess my little wife thinks I’m into gossip. It’s only interesting when I’m hearing it from her.
I pull out my phone to check on a few things, still watching my wife flutter around the kitchen.
“War.” Becca greets me. She must have already been here. Likely chatting with my mother.
“Evening.” I give a standard smile. Tova told me it might make me appear more friendly if I would smile at people. Who better to test the theory with than her mother? I see Tova glance our way. “How are you?” I ask Becca, and Tova smiles, then goes back to arranging food on a tray.
“I'm doing very well. I wanted to thank you. Tova has been glowing since the two of you got married. I’ve been rude.” Her words surprise me.
“There’s no need to apologize. I don’t blame you. You were forced to do something you didn’t want.” I turn my attention to my wife. “I could have never done it.”
“Thank you,” Becca says again, putting her hand on my arm, pulling my attention back to her. “She always had a crush on you. I suppose it was meant to be. All of it really.” She gives me a genuine smile. “And thank you for not telling her.”
“Telling her what?” I ask. Now she really does have my full attention.
“You know.” Becca glances around. “That it was your father who gave her to us.” What is she saying? “We could never have children, and then a miracle came along, and we got Tova.”
“She is special,” I respond, making no promises. I have no fucking clue how to handle this delicate bomb Becca has placed in my hands. She doesn’t know it, but this is a hell of a fucking way for her to get some revenge on me for laying claim to her daughter.
“You guys are talking about me,” Tova says playfully.
“About how special you are.” She wraps her arm around my waist, and I put my arm over her shoulder. Tova rests her head on me.
“Well, don’t stop because I’m here.” Tova laughs.
“The flower placements are lovely,” Becca tells her, wanting to change the subject.
“Oh, you’ve seen them?” Tova slips out of my hold, eager to speak of her flowers with her mother. They both head toward the formal dining room where she’d put them earlier today. I wait for them to disappear out of sight before I go in search of my father. I find him and my brothers in the library.
“I need a word with our father.” Z’s brows rise while Ronan, who could give a shit less, heads for the door. My father speaks once they leave the room, closing the door behind them.
“I take it this isn’t about the docks or the fire.” No; if it was, I wouldn't have cared if my brothers were here. This is different. Really fucking different. I have a lot of questions about Tova, and I need my father to begin answering them.
“You’ve withheld information about my wife from me.”
"I don't find the information worth noting." I stare at him. "Do you?" He stands from the oversized chair he'd been sitting in. "Does it really matter? Z is your brother even though he came to us under different circumstances. Is he not?"
"That's not the point. You used this to push the Sullivans’ hand in giving their daughter over to me."
"I did what I needed to." I fight not to ball my hands into fists, to give away anything, but I’m finding that’s not so easy anymore when it comes to Tova. I can be rather unpredictable.
"And that is where the problem lies." I take a step closer to my father. "Will you try to do the same to me?"
"No, there is no need."
"I don't believe you." Which means I might have to tell my wife this information. Even if my father swears to never utter a word of it, I still have this sense of betrayal. A feeling that I’m lying to her. I never want there to be anything between us. No secrets.
"I'll admit, I used Tova, but that is done."
"For now?" I take another step closer to my father.
"No, the task was accomplished with you two simply marrying."
"I'm not buying the storyline any longer about this being about making me appear more friendly to get other clients to deal with our family or whatever pony show you think the public needs to see."
"That isn't why I did it." I'm getting sick of these word games.