Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“I went with him, actually,” she told her husband pointedly. “He was up and out already.”
He forced a smile, then asked if he could have a word. I walked with him out to the back deck, and he leaned on the railing, looking out at the yard, avoiding eye contact.
“I was trying to get my brother a life, but I was a dick to you, and that was shitty.”
I chuckled, and he turned to look at me. “We’re good. Don’t strain nothin’.”
He huffed out a sigh and nodded. “Let’s eat. You must be hungry. You actually did something this morning.”
“Sleeping burns calories.” I arched an eyebrow.
He flipped me off, and we went in. Cy was in the kitchen, and I walked over to him and kissed his cheek.
“Good morning, cowboy,” he said, making sure only his lips touched me.
“What?”
He made a face. “You’re all sweaty.”
“You like me sweaty,” I whispered so only he could hear.
“When I’m sweaty too.” His face told me I was disgusting as he pointed away from him. “Just go over there. Don’t touch me, okay?”
“C’mere.”
“No.” He started chuckling. “Gross.”
I made a move to grab him, and he jumped back. “Weber!”
“Here, kitty.”
“No,” he said, laughing, putting the counter between us. “Eat or go take a shower.”
I waggled my eyebrows and lunged. The sound that came out of the man—laugh, squeal, shriek—was a joy to hear. He ran into the great room, went left when he should have gone right, and I had him, pile-driving him onto the couch under me.
He was laughing so hard, and I straddled his thighs and grabbed his wrists, holding them immobile over his head.
“Gimme kiss.”
But he was howling with laughter, and I gave up, releasing him, watching him go fetal. Standing up, I was surprised to see his entire family in the kitchen staring at me. All eyes wide, mouths open, stunned expressions.
“What?”
Angie recovered first, pressing her lips together as her eyes filled.
“It’s nothing.” Lyn smiled at me. “Just you guys.”
I had no idea what that meant, so I shoved Cy off the couch and told him to get up and eat with me.
He was still heaving for breath when we walked back into the kitchen.
The rest of the day was spent doing nothing. The kids were bouncing off the walls because it started to rain and they couldn’t go outside, so I told them we’d play hide-and-seek. I asked Angie where she didn’t want us to go, and she appreciated being asked before we started.
The little kids were easy to find because when I growled, they squealed. The others were harder, with Tristan being surprisingly bendable, able to hide in weird places, and Micah being devious. I had a good time, and after lunch, I was sitting on the covered deck, watching the rain, when Mr. Benning joined me. He brought me a beer, which was nice of him, and took a seat beside me.
“You called me Mr. Benning all morning.”
“Yessir.”
“It’s not needed. Call me Owen.”
“Yessir.”
“Listen, I expect to see you for Christmas, Weber. Don’t leave before that, all right?”
“I’ll try, Mr.… Owen.”
He nodded. “Good. We would all really like to see more of you.”
What was I supposed to say to that?
His hand reached for my shoulder, and I smiled when he squeezed it. I could tell he had more to say.
He gave a soft cough. “So you know, I have never, ever seen my son this happy. All his life he has been serious and driven, and I could not be prouder of his achievements or more pleased with the man he’s become. All my kids—Brett, Cyrus, and Carolyn—I’m very blessed, but Cyrus, he never allowed himself to have fun, to simply do something without it having a purpose.”
I just listened.
“When he told me he was gay, he sat me down and explained it like he was the parent and I was the child. I mean, I’ve never worried about him or his choices because I’ve made some foolish ones, but he never has. He never leaps without looking, he always considers every outcome, and he’s always careful and thoughtful and smart. I have never seen him do anything spur of the moment, he’s much too practical. I honestly had no idea he could laugh like he did earlier. Even when he was a kid, he didn’t laugh like that, with pure joy. He was just too serious. And I love him, I do, but as far as understanding him, that’s a whole other story.”
I got what he was saying, but the man I knew and the man he was talking about were two totally different people.
“The men I’ve met, the men he’s brought here or introduced his mother and me to, were all very logical choices. They were much like Ross—who left early this morning, by the way. They had great jobs, exceptional investment portfolios—his words not mine—and when they were here, they had their laptops out on the table first thing in the morning to get some work done. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I respect dedication and drive, but not one of them made my son laugh so hard that he cried. Not one did he have to sit next to, and not one did he kiss in front of us.”