Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Chance’s jaw drops like he can’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth. “Again, you should fix your face or I’ll have to fill everyone in on how our relationship started.” She looks at him boldly, daring him to open that door, and thankfully, he clacks his mouth shut. I appreciate Samantha’s assistance, because in the same way they don’t want to hear the details of my sex life, I don’t want to hear about my brother’s either. “How did you get from there to here?” she asks me, focusing the conversation and giving me back the floor to use how I want.
“They found me, which I didn’t take well, basically verbally tearing their heads off before sending them on their way. But someone reminded me that I deserve happiness, so I decided to see if I could find it.”
“And have you? With two men?” Chance asks, still stuck on that fact. I’m not surprised. He’s my brother with a ‘right is right and wrong is wrong’ mentality, and this is not the norm, if there is even such a thing. But of my siblings, he’s the one I’ve always been closest with, so his condemnation cuts deeper.
“With two professional hockey players,” Kyle specifies, holding up two wiggling fingers with a grin. He’s enjoying this, like it’s some sort of game we’re his pawns in. But I’m no pawn and this isn’t a game. It’s my life.
Baring my teeth, I growl, “Fuck you, Kyle.”
It’s the first unplanned move I make, and I regret it instantly. It’s a tell as obvious as if I’d scratched my nose at the poker table, and my brothers all know it because we grew up in the same house, receiving the same lessons at Dad’s knee. It might as well be a cavernous crack in my don’t-give-a-shit hard shell.
“Are you happy?” Samantha asks calmly, back in therapist mode and smoothing over my outburst with a return to the important question.
Still mad, just not at her, I snap, “I was, until this asshole showed up and ruined everything.”
I point an accusatory finger at Kyle and he holds his hands up, acting surprised at my vitriol.
Dani, who I’ve learned faces down rougher than Kyle pretty much every day, leans his way, assuring him, “You deserved that. And worse.”
More afraid of her than of me, he sobers, crossing his arms over his chest and going silent.
Despite the immature back and forth, the truth of what I said landed for everyone. I was happy until it became this Big Thing. And now? I don’t know. It’s all so messy, and I hate messy. It’s the antithesis of everything I am, which is orderly, planned, above reproach.
Boring. Alone. Lonely.
Except I haven’t been any of those things lately. I’ve been excited, open to experiences, and even a bit, dare I say, giddy at learning more about Riggs and Maddox and sharing more of myself with them. I’ve felt alive in a way I’ve never been before. I’ve felt unmasked, something that should make me terrified and vulnerable but has felt safe and comfortable because of their acceptance of me, just as I am.
No, their celebration of me.
“Do you know their history?” Cole says quietly. “Especially Patrick’s. I’ve already done background checks if you want the low-down?”
I clench my jaw, feeling protective of Riggs. I did my own research on them, but Cole’s offer of more feels invasive. Offended, I growl, “I know what I need to know, from them directly.”
He narrows his eyes, his gaze penetrating, and I don’t back down a bit, flat-faced staring back at him and challenging him to say something stupid. We don’t have the twin telepathy thing they talk about on TV shows, but a lifetime spent together has given us some ability at reading each other wordlessly. So when he dips his chin the slightest bit, giving in, I know that he’s at least acknowledging he didn’t find anything too damning. There are no felonies, no suspicious motives, no instant vetoes to either man. It doesn’t mean he approves of them, especially both of them, but he’s not fully against them based on the detailed reports he compiled. Not that I want to see those reports. I trust what Riggs and Maddox have told me. And my own research too.
Still, it’s the slightest shift in the chess board. It’s no longer Kayla, party of one, Harrington boys, party of five. It’s more like 1.5 vs 4.5.
“Kayla, what are you doing?” Cameron asks, shaking his head like I’m exhausting him. And confusing him.
My oldest brother and I have had a tumultuous relationship in a lot of ways. I saw him at his worst after his wife died unexpectedly, when Mom and Dad worried he was going to take Grace and the rest of the world along for his devastating ride to destruction. I held his hand, stepped in with Grace when he couldn’t, and played therapist for his breakdowns. When I came on at Blue Lake, Cameron and Carter were deadlocked in the competitive war Dad always fostered between them, and I stayed out of their way for the most part, building my own mini-empire inside what was effectively their walls. When Carter left and it was the two of us, Cameron and I suddenly had to figure out how we were going to work together without stepping on each other’s toes or killing one another. And we did it, forging our own paths to success while seeking out the best for the company overall.