Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I look her dead in the eye. “Is it working?” I pull on my collar theatrically. “Cause I’ve never tried to impress a mother before.” I lay my cards on the table.
“No one has been worth the effort?” her eyes harden again.
“No,” I shake my head. “I haven’t ever dated. I was too busy dealing with rockstars who acted like toddlers to even consider subjecting someone to that lifestyle.”
Her mouth opens and closes silently for a few seconds before she asks, “Seriously?”
“It’s part of why I wanted to leave that lifestyle. I’m ready to settle down. It seems the universe decided to have mercy on me when it dropped the most wonderful woman in the world right into my life.”
“Holy shit.” She breathes. “You’d better not be spinning lines or you’ll find out just how Bardot women deal with assholes.”
“I’ve already seen Bardot women in action and I’m not brave enough to piss one of you off.” I give a fake shudder.
She lets out a bark of laughter and, just like that, some of the tension dissipates. She sets the flowers on the counter and starts hunting for a vase, calling out, “Naomi! Your young man is here!”
I hear a thump from somewhere upstairs, then footsteps. My entire nervous system runs on red alert.
Naomi appears at the top of the stairs, hair down, wild, in a sleeveless green dress that looks criminally good on her. Her mouth splits into a huge smile when she sees me. She bounds down the steps and closes the distance in three seconds flat, then wraps her arms around my waist. She smells like vanilla and heat. I pull her close and kiss her, just a quick one, but it crackles anyway.
“Hey,” she says, low and private. “You survived the front lines.”
“So far,” I mutter, but her smile makes it worth it.
Casey arrives with the subtlety of a tornado, skidding around the corner in cutoff shorts and a “Free Britney” tee that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair is wild, two streaks of pink on either side, and her eyes are already locked on me like she’s about to cross-examine a hostile witness.
“Hello, Wyatt,” she says, folding herself onto a bar stool and grabbing the wine bottle off the counter. She spins it, inspecting the label. “You charmed mom. Let’s see what you can do with me.” These three women come as a package deal and I’m ready to keep them all. I haven’t had a family in years and this feels like coming home. “I’m Casey. Your worst nightmare and also your new little sister.”
“Good to meet you, Casey.” I look over at Naomi, who’s watching with love shining from her blue eyes. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
June finally finds a vase and starts shoving the stems in with gentle violence. “Naomi, can you help set the table?” she calls, then turns to me. “You drink wine, Wyatt?”
“Yeah. But you don’t have to—”
“Nonsense,” she says. “You brought it, we’re going to drink it.” Her tone brooks no argument.
I follow Naomi into the dining room, where the table is already half-set. She nudges me with her hip and whispers, “Relax. You’re doing great. Casey only bullies people she likes.”
“I really like both your mother and sister,” I say, and she snuggles against me. “And I can see where you get your spunk from.”
“I’m glad.” She breathes and pulls my head down for a kiss. As her soft lips move under mine, I almost forget we’re standing in the middle of her mother’s dining room.
June comes in with the vase and sets it on the table, then gestures for everyone to sit. I end up across from her, with Naomi on my left and Casey on my right. The wine is poured, the roast chicken is brought out, and for a minute it’s just normal, quiet, even. But it doesn’t last.
“So, Wyatt,” June says as she serves up the chicken. “Naomi tells me you’re head of security at the club now.”
I knew the goddamn interrogation was coming. I nod. “Just started a few weeks ago. Still figuring it out.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I hear that’s a… unique clientele.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Casey jumps in, waving a fork. “Did you really used to be a bodyguard for Steel Pulse? Or is that just a rumor?”
I smirk. “It’s true. Ten years of pure hell.”
Casey nearly chokes on her mashed potatoes. “Holy shit. I saw them in Dallas last summer. The crowd was insane.”
Naomi gives her a look. “Language, Case.”
Casey rolls her eyes. “You swear more than I do. Anyway, what was the craziest thing you ever had to do? Like, did you ever have to punch a fan or tase someone?”
I catch June’s expression of part horror, part interest. “No tasers. But once in Toronto, I walked into a hotel room and had to pull a guy off the drummer. He was naked, covered in green glitter, and yelling about intergalactic soulmates.”