Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“Only a small part of it. August’s true world is down there.” He nods toward the stadium that’s slowly filling up. “And here, with us. Family and football. That’s what matters.”
The gentle admonishment, as though I should have known better, chafes. I take a long drink of the cocktail the bartender made for me. I have no idea what’s in it, only that it tastes fresh and fruity and is creamy blue. He’d called it the house specialty.
The base of the glass makes a light clink when I set it down on a nearby bar top. “You and I both know I won’t be here long enough to get used to it.”
Glacial blue eyes hold mine. “I have a feeling, Penny Lane, that you’ll be around for quite some time.”
“You know this isn’t real.”
“Do I?” Suddenly he grins, wide and bright. It reminds me so much of August, my breath catches. “Keep protesting, Pen. I’m a competitive guy and like the challenge.”
“Said just like a Luck,” I mutter darkly.
“Exactly.”
Jan offers his arm and, when I take it, leads me down to the plush seats. A rapper whose name eludes me is talking to Monica. But when he spots Jan heading their way, he jumps up to shake his hand. It’s a neat trick how Jan manages to exchange friendly conversation while steering me into the very seat the guy vacated.
“It’s the best,” he says to me when I balk, before clapping the rapper on the shoulder and telling him to enjoy the game.
Caught between the seat and Jan’s bulk, I choose to sit. Monica gives me a sly look as she leans back, a massive tub of popcorn in her hands.
“Those Luck boys,” she says. “Smooth as cream and sweet as honey.”
“I was thinking more like steamrollers with smiles.”
“We’re both.” Jan plops down in the empty seat on my other side. Dark brows waggle once. “I have excellent hearing.”
“Then I won’t have to raise my voice when I tell you to bite me.”
A laugh bursts out of him.
“Attagirl,” he says, mussing my hair with his huge paw.
I swat him away but can’t help but smile. Charming is what they are. The whole lot of them.
Content, Jan surveys the field. He’s managed to procure a fresh beer without having to take a step. I swear the staff must pop up before he can even think to ask for something.
Monica, who’s been watching our interplay, appears entertained. “August mentioned that you all grew up together. It shows.”
Jan wraps a muscled arm around my shoulders and gives me an affectionate squeeze, much like a two-year-old would with his favorite woobie. “And now she’ll be our real-life sister.”
I swear I’m going to kill him. I expected this of March, but January? He’s supposed to be the reserved one. The elder statesman. Then again, he’s had it so rough this year, his good humor and sly teasing are to be celebrated. If I can keep him smiling, I will.
“I’m already composing my Christmas list,” I tell him. “Prepare your wallet.”
“Isn’t that August’s job?”
“Oh, he’ll get his. But as my new big brother, I’m owed years of back presents.”
Jan chuckles and drinks his beer.
“I’m glad you came,” Monica says. “It’s usually the same old boring crowd.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
Monica does a double take. “The box is August’s.”
“He bought it?”
“Was tied into his contract as a benefit.” Jan takes a handful of offered popcorn. “I told him he’d come to appreciate it, given the size of our family.”
“It was a good idea,” Monica says. “Rhodes has one. It’s always filled to the brim with his people. Trent never bothered.” She turns my way. “He didn’t have me when he started, and he’s an orphan.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Football pulled him through and was his ticket out.” Setting the popcorn tub down, she wipes her fingers with a napkin. “I was looking to purchase a box, but there wasn’t any to be had—our boys are a hot ticket now. So August offered co-ownership of his. Trent insists he’ll be the one to buy in. Said it was his games I had to go see—that’s some hardship—and so he’s the one to spend the money.”
“And you let him have his way,” I say knowingly.
Crimson lips curl in a small smile. “Choose your battles, you know?”
Jan takes a pull on his beer and then huffs a laugh. “You women scare me, the way you effortlessly manage us.”
“Take notes, Big Boy,” Monica says. “Compromise goes both ways. You’ll be a lot happier once you figure that out.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
It occurs to me that Jan and his fiancée broke up soon after their accident, and that he might be a little salty about women and relationships at the moment.
“Anyway,” Monica drawls with a gleam in her eye. “Now that you’re here, Pen, we can go about decorating it a little more to our tastes and choosing menus together.”