Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
It wasn’t.
I got older and fooled around, but never here. By the time I was ready, the summer camp got developed. Too many people around.
Now, I’m too old.
“Hey, Junior.”
I look up, seeing Fallon cross the lawn toward me.
I smile. Junior?
“What?” she teases, knowing what. “You look exactly like him.”
I tilt my head, spotting Madoc still on the lawn behind her head. He has one leg in a potato sack, partnering with some kid in a three-legged race along with other parents and their campers. His jacket is discarded, and his light blue tie is loosened around his neck.
“I’m grown up now.” I straighten as she leans on the hood next to me. “I have my own style, thank you. I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pastel necktie.”
“Bet you can still tell when a woman is wearing a thong, though.”
I snort, unable to stop the rumble of laughter. Shit, I forgot she knew Madoc taught me about that years ago.
I shrug. “Well, he made sure the most important lessons stuck.”
We watch him do the three-legged race as he grins his ass off, and while all the parents and counselors probably think it’s so nice of the mayor to stop by and spend time with them. Fallon and I both know he loves it as much as the kids do. I have no doubt he wishes he could do the Color War and food fight too.
He keeps everyone around him young. I will him to look over and approach because Fallon has fallen silent, and I know she has things to say.
“Lucas—”
I bow my head. “I’m happy there,” I tell her. “Nothing is wrong. I love you all. I just…”
I draw in a breath and glance over at her. Her head is turned toward me.
“I just…moved.” I nod. “My life is there now.”
That’s all I ever say. It is what it is. It won’t change.
She chews on her bottom lip, only the faintest of lines around the corners of her eyes. Other than my mother, she’s the woman who nurtured me the most. I even followed in her footsteps, studying engineering and architecture.
“You know, Madoc was always the better parent,” she says in a quiet but firm voice. “I’ve always known that. He’s strong. He knows when he shouldn’t say things, and he can control the urge to get angry.” She looks at me. “He’s patient. I’m not.”
The softest smile curls one corner of her mouth.
“I’ve struggled with that far more than I want to admit,” she tells me. “I don’t like waiting for people to come around because it wastes time.”
It always amused me how different Madoc is than his wife. A woman he fell in love with when they were just kids, back when she was his stepsibling.
And when their parents separated them, he latched on to a best friend who was exactly like her. Jared is temper and fire, just like Fallon. It takes more work for them to control themselves than it does Madoc.
“Your life isn’t there.” She narrows her eyes on me, accusingly. “Do you think I don’t talk to the firm? You work seven days a week, you haven’t taken a single vacation in eight years, and I’ve seen your calendar.”
I clench my fists. “What?”
My company is under the same umbrella as hers. We communicate a lot and report to several of the same people, depending on the project.
“Every waking moment is planned,” she tells me as if I don’t know. “Your meetings, your meals, your exercise routine. Even…” She exhales, looking away. “Dinners that last exactly two-point-five hours.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Jesus.”
That is far more personal than she needs to know about. Goddammit.
I’m a thirty-three-year-old man, and I’m busy. I’ll consider a relationship when I have the time. And I don’t have the time right now for more than a nice meal and a couple of hours in a hotel room every so often with a woman who’s also busy with her own career and doesn’t want any more than that, either.
“You don’t live,” she says. “Not there. Not anywhere. Don’t lie to me.”
I arch a brow and turn my head away, wanting to rage.
But I won’t. Not with her.
I like my life the way it is. I’m good at my job, I have friends, and I don’t want to bring a woman into it. What if I transfer to Berlin or Sydney?
And I like my privacy. I know she means well, but she’s holding on too tightly.
“Fallon?” I look over at her, my voice as gentle as possible. “You’re not my parents.”
I swear she doesn’t move. Not even a flicker in her eyes. But there’s pain there all the same.
I sigh, putting an arm around her, and tug her into my side. She’s so small next to me, like I used to be next to her.