Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I want your version,” Courtlynn counters.
“Fair enough.” He grins. “Courtlynn, Ellison, Leighton,” he addresses each of them, “my intentions are simple.” He pauses, and the heated stare he gives me fills the room. “I want to make her fall in love with me.”
“That’s a pretty big confession,” Ellison speaks up.
Finally, he turns his gaze from me to my oldest sister. Macklin and Ellison have been friends for a long time, since high school, when she started dating Copeland, maybe even longer than that. Macklin, Bowen, and Dixon were there for Ellison in a way my sisters and I couldn’t be when Copeland left town.
“Ellie, I think you know me well enough to know I don’t say things I don’t mean.” He holds her stare as his words settle between them.
“She’s my little sister.” There’s a warning in her statement. A line drawn. A subtle reminder to a man who has been one of her closest friends for a long time.
Macklin nods, and the air seems to shift. “I know who she is. I’m just hoping that one day, I’ll also get to call her mine.” The statement is delivered in a calm, soothing voice.
“Wow,” Leighton breathes, as if she’s just witnessed something spectacular.
“All right, then.” Courtlynn claps her hands together, the sound slicing through the tension. “Looks like we might be planning another wedding.”
A wedding. The words slam into my head harder than they should. Todd and I talked about marriage a lot in the beginning, but the last couple of years, his excuses ranged from, it’s not the right time, or after I make partner. I thought he would be the one I’d walk down the aisle to.
“No one said anything about a wedding,” I cut in. My voice comes out sharper than intended, as if I’m trying to regain control of the conversation. It might also be a little bit about Todd, and the memory of what I thought my future might look like, and now, I’m just uncertain.
About everything.
Macklin’s head whips around so that he’s looking into my eyes. Suddenly, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the room. “Let’s hope so, Court,” he says, but he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at me.
Something is happening in my chest. Something fast, chaotic, and impossible to ignore. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure they can all hear it. My palms are damp, fingers curling against the cold metal of the filing cabinet I’m leaning against, just to stay upright. Because let’s be honest. My knees are not steady. Not even close.
This isn’t a joke to him. He means every word he’s saying. There’s a clear intent in his tone, just like there was last night. I didn’t imagine it all.
Macklin McBride wants me to be his.
The thought settles inside me, rooting somewhere deep where it shouldn’t belong. It’s too soon, and he doesn’t know the adult me, not as well as he should for those kinds of declarations. He’ll change his mind, just like Todd did.
Taking a deep breath, I try to force air into my lungs, trying to think past the way he’s looking at me like I’m not one of his closest friends’ little sister. Like I’m not off-limits. No, he’s looking at me like I’m a choice he’s already made. Determined to make everyone in the room see his intentions clearly.
That’s the most dangerous part of all of this. Because there’s a small, traitorous part of me that wants to believe him. That small part wants to step into his arms, feel them wrapped around me just as they were last night, and just be.
When he held me last night, it didn’t feel wrong or as if it was too soon and I was moving on too quickly. It felt like we fit together, and that’s even more dangerous.
I need to shut down that line of thinking because it will only lead to more heartbreak, right? That’s what history has shown me, and my mind is telling me that history will repeat itself, no matter what my heart is suddenly yearning for.
My grip tightens on the cabinet. “Wedding? Do you even hear yourself right now?” I manage to ask, my voice quiet, not defiant, and definitely unsteady.
His expression doesn’t change. If anything, it softens. Just enough to make my stomach flip. “Yeah, Baylor,” he says simply, “I do.” His lips tilt in a smile at the pun, whether intended or not.
He’s the air of certainty. No hesitation, no visible doubt. He’s not backtracking or retracting his words. Instead, he remains steadfast, standing behind what he said, and the way those green eyes of his are locked on mine, he’s willing me to believe him.
I don’t know what to do with that.
I don’t know what to do with him.
I don’t know how to handle the fact that my entire world, for the second time in a matter of weeks, feels like it’s tilting in a new direction.