Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. “I couldn’t go another minute without doing that.”
She smiles up at me, her cheeks flushed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” I admit, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But you like it.”
She doesn’t deny it, just rolls her eyes again in that way that makes me want to kiss her all over. But I hold back. For now. I have something else up my sleeve. Something way more important.
“Don’t make any plans tomorrow night.”
Her brow furrows. “Why?”
“Because I have plans. For us.”
“What kinds of plans?”
I grin. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh?”
She narrows her eyes at me, but there’s no hiding the curiosity in them. “You’re infuriating.”
“You’ll survive,” I tease, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. I pause just as I’m about to leave, turning back to her with a grin. “By the way, you’re sleeping at my place tonight.”
She quirks an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh, am I? You really like taking up all my time, don’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” I say, stepping closer to press one last kiss to her lips. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
She shakes her head, but the smile on her face gives her away. “Fine.”
“Good,” I say, my voice low and filled with promise. “See you out there.”
And with that, I slip out of the bathroom, leaving her behind with a smile on her face and my heart pounding in my chest.
I’m in love with her, and I’ve got a to-do list of related items I can’t wait to mark off.
Tell Avery.
Tell everyone else.
Make her mine forever.
With the way we’ve been for years, all three are a long time coming. When my father died, I thought I’d lost all my family for good.
But Avery was there to remind me I get a chance at a new one.
How fitting that I want to start it with her.
The Past
Six months ago
Henry
My father’s house is packed to the gills, every corner, every hallway, every room filled with people who knew him. Some of them are his old friends from past jobs and such, men with strong handshakes and sad smiles who tell me how proud my father always was of me. Others are neighbors, folks who would wave at him every morning as he drank his coffee on the porch. And then there are the ones I don’t recognize at all. Faces blurred together in a haze of handshakes, murmured condolences, and too-tight hugs.
It’s so strange to be in his house with all these people and he’s not here.
I keep waiting to see him walk through the door, but I know it’ll never happen because we’re all gathered here for his wake.
All I have left of my father are memories and photos and his house and the belongings inside it that I’m not quite ready to pack up.
I know I’m standing in the middle of it all, but I feel like I’m watching it from outside my body. I am a shell of myself, nodding along and murmuring “thank you” over and over like it’s on a loop that starts and ends in the same place—with a dead dad.
“Henry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” someone says, and I turn to face them. It’s an older woman, one of my dad’s old coworkers, maybe. Her eyes are kind, but I can’t even remember her name. I mumble a quick thanks before someone else steps up to offer their condolences.
Another handshake. Another sad smile.
The weight of it all presses down on my chest, and I feel like I can’t breathe. My dad—the one person who’s always been there, who’s raised me, taught me everything I know, been my rock—is gone. And all these people, with their kind words and pats on the back, can’t fill the void he’s left behind.
I’m drowning in it.
I scan the room, desperate to find a lifeline that’ll keep my head above water just enough to breathe and find it unexpectedly in the soft eyes of Beau’s sister, Avery. Standing in the doorway to the living room, she has her gaze locked on me, and like a miracle, when our eyes meet, I feel light enough to keep from sinking to the bottom. She’s wearing a simple but surely expensive black dress, her dark hair swept back, and for a moment, it feels like the world pauses.
She doesn’t smile or say anything as she walks toward me, but her eyes don’t let go of mine and her purpose is clear. When she gets close enough, she doesn’t reach out for a handshake or a polite hug like everyone else—she grabs my hand and tugs me out of the room.
“Avery, what are you—” I start to say, but she cuts me off with a look. The kind of look that says, Don’t argue with me.