Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Clint makes his way over to her, waiting as she puts the tins on the cooling rack. “Hey,” he says, but when he’s close enough to see her face, he twists to stare at me furiously before reaching out for her.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The door—”
Taylor sobs and then swipes at her face roughly, twisting away from Clint and striding to the sink. She begins scrubbing dirty dishes furiously.
I’m frozen to the spot, but Maverick is quick to approach her. “Jesse made a mistake, muffin. He forgot you were inside.”
Her shoulders hitch, but when he rests his hand against her spine, her posture softens.
“Taylor.” My throat burns with regret, but the word sorry dies on my tongue.
She turns, and her gaze fixes on my face. “You thought I’d run.” Her forthrightness is like a stab in the gut. “At least be honest,” she says through gritted teeth.
“He didn’t want this to end before it started,” Maverick says softly. He brushes away a tear that’s halfway down her blotchy cheek. “It was wrong.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m your prisoner,” she half shouts. There’s more emotion behind her words but she’s trying to keep it contained.
“We won’t,” Clint says, leveling me with a glare.
“I’m not going to leave,” she says. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Relief floods me, which makes me sicker with myself. I shouldn’t be happy to learn she’s alone in the world and that the only place she has to be is with three strangers. What kind of man does that make me?
One with hopes and dreams built on loss.
It’s not an excuse. I rub my hands over my lower face and hang my head. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Clint adds firmly. “You’re a part of this family, and you’ll be treated that way, with trust and respect. Okay?”
I raise my head to witness Taylor nodding before she returns to the dishes.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask. “Can I help?”
“Everything’s ready.”
It’s then I notice that the table has been set with three different salads, sliced cold meats, a savory tart of some kind, and fresh bread rolls. “I would have put some flowers in the vase, but I couldn’t get outside.”
“I’ll get some,” I say quickly, striding to the door.
I need to get outside for a couple of minutes to regroup. This morning feels like it’s a year away, and I’ve lost all the trust I felt building with Taylor with one stupid action.
Locking Taylor inside was a mistake. If she knew me, maybe she’d understand, but right now, she’s become wary and suspicious.
I just hope that spending the evening with Mitch and Barb will dilute the unease within our home.
Although I hate to admit it even to myself, I need to work on my trust issues for everyone’s sake.
An hour later, the front door swings open as Maverick welcomes our guests. I arrive in the hallway, showered and dressed, just in time.
“You usually come around the back. Why the formality?”
Barb pulls me in for one of her magic hugs that feels like heaven. She’s short but well built, as sturdy as she’s feminine and soft. I catch her usual rose scent which lowers my agitation a notch almost immediately. Mitch looms behind his wife, his thatch of thick, gray hair giving him a distinguished look.
“What’s cooking? You boys need to get out of my way.” Mitch has a mound of a belly to match his jovial personality. After years of working with delinquents from every state and walk of life, you’d think he’d be cynical by now. But he has an endless supply of optimism and good cheer that make him a positive influence. He suffers no fools despite his toothy grin, which can deceive people who meet him for the first time.
Barb cranes her neck and catches sight of Taylor, who’s dressed in an outfit that bears no resemblance to her usual combo. She’s the perfect blend of practical and elegant in smart black pants and a soft pink top decorated with embroidery. She’s beautiful, and I have to swallow against the ball of cotton suddenly caught in my throat.
“Now, you must be Taylor. I’ve heard so much about you!” Barb steps forward and takes Taylor into an embrace, which Taylor seems awkward to receive but reciprocates anyway. “Clint. You’re a very lucky man.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you both.” Taylor smiles in Mitch’s direction. “I hope you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure what to cook so I made a spread.”
“That’s wonderful, honey! I’m sure it’s all going to be delicious.” Barb touches Taylor’s arm and is met with a tentative smile.
“I’ll get us a good red to go with dinner, but for now, let’s have a little whiskey warm-up.” I head for the cabinet in the back room and come out with a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of joy juice, finding Mitch praising Taylor in the kitchen.