Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Please,” Bennett groans. “Don’t be such a pussy, Logan. Before Hollywood, I could have broken your arm, and you wouldn’t be complaining this much. Fucking actor pricks made you soft.”
“Well, excuse me for not expecting the stupid fucking sheep farmer to have such a strong arm!”
I chuckle, and the two of them turn on me in unison.
“You shut the fuck up.”
“Go home, Ted.”
No way in hell I’m leaving without talking to Breezy, angry brothers or not.
“My name is Tad. Not fucking Ted,” I answer on a sigh, rolling my eyes. “And I’m not leaving.”
“I’m not either,” Logan declares.
“Well, that’s just fucking great. I guess we’re at a stalemate.” Bennett turns angrily and walks toward the backyard, Logan calling after him, when all I have to offer is a shrug.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a burn barrel,” Bennett calls back, annoyed. “It’s cold as fuck, and if we’re gonna stand around with our dicks in our hands, we might as well burn some shit.”
Great. Burning shit. Just the thing I need.
32
Breezy
“All right, what’s going on? Two hours ago, I left a quiet house to get my nails done, and now I come home to some Fyre Festival-level disaster with black eyes, bloody knuckles, a screaming baby, and you throwing up into my trash can.”
Norah’s voice is pitched somewhere between disbelief and mom-level authority. She bounces and rocks Autumn on her hip with my niece’s sweet head tucked under her chin, and tears spring to my eyes against my will.
“I don’t even know where to begin. Logan just showed up here. You know how complicated shit is with Logan and me. And you know how much Bennett hates him…” I pause, not even sure where to start, because honestly, I don’t really know what the hell is happening with me or the Three Violent Stooges out back.
“So, Logan showed up, and Bennett lost his shit,” Norah repeats, trying to understand it all herself. “And where exactly does Tad Hanson throwing punches come into that equation?”
“He busted through the door out of nowhere,” I say, trying to swallow back the onslaught of tears that want to escape. But when my throat clenches with emotion, I hold my breath to calm myself, even swiping at my eyes with my shirt.
It doesn’t help. They spill over before I can catch them, hot and humiliating, and a sob bubbles up from my throat.
“Breezy?” Norah asks, horrified, her eyes wide and confused over my sudden emotional outburst.
“Bee sad!” Autumn says. “Okay, Bee?”
I nod, even though I am sad. But I don’t fucking know why I’m sad. Or this insanely emotional. Or dizzy. Or puking like some woman who…
The wheels of my brain cells start spinning a tune that’s straight-up horrifying in its chorus.
Oh God. I’m not pre—
Another sob bubbles up from my throat before I can even think the word.
“Bee is sad, but she’ll be okay,” Norah reassures, but when her eyes land on me again, her expression is still one of shock and dismay before realization starts to set in. “Breezy?” My name is tight with question, and I know without even having to investigate further, she knows what I’m beginning to fear the most.
“Are you…? How could you be—?”
I cut her off quickly with a shush, nodding to the toddler in her arms whose favorite pastime these days is repeating everything she hears.
Norah squeezes Autumn in a quick hug and then hustles toward the porch door, opening it just enough to place her daughter down gently and yell at Bennett across the yard. “Ben! Come get your daughter. And please, if you would, watch her responsibly this time.”
It’s a burn as cold as ice, and I’m unavoidably filled with pride at the sound of it. My sweet little Norah, who was a people-pleasing sweetheart when she found my brother tearing his own life apart, has developed a spine of steel. I love to see it.
The handoff goes smoothly, and Bennett is smart enough to tell her he’s sorry for being such an asshole. Norah sort of accepts the apology but mostly shoos him back out the door and on his way with Autumn on his hip now.
“Okay,” she says as the door slams closed behind her, rushing toward the table and sliding into the chair across from mine without delay. “The little ears are gone, so you’d better get talking. I don’t want to assume anything crazy, but I walked in to you puking in my trash can. And now, you’re hanging on by a thread of tears…”
I shake my head, as if I can will away the possibility.
“Breezy,” Norah says and puts both hands on my shoulders. “I’m not a doctor, but you’re acting a lot like a woman who is…” she drops her voice to a whisper “…pregnant.”
And there it is. The word my mind is shouting inside my brain, but I’m trying not to acknowledge.