Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Xavier put my bag on the round table next to an armchair before he turned to me. “Nothing fancy.”
I shrugged. “I love it here. I bet it was wonderful to grow up in this house.”
Something dark passed Xavier’s face but as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. He didn’t give me a chance to ponder his reaction. “I’ll take my bag to my room, then we should return to my family. They’re probably up to no good.”
Suppressing my curiosity, I nodded. Together we walked back into the dining room.
The moment I caught Milena’s eyes, she winked at me.
I wasn’t sure why she did it, but I had no intention of asking. I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of Xavier’s family.
The lamb roast was amazing, and I complimented Georgia several times for it, until she asked if she could adopt me. Her words briefly lodged a lump in my throat, reminding me of my mother, and I excused myself under the pretense of having to go to the toilet. It only took a couple of minutes to gather my bearings and when I stepped back out of the guest bathroom, I was surprised to find Xavier waiting in front of it. “My mother didn’t know about your mom,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning my face.
I smiled embarrassedly. “It’s no big deal. I got emotional for a moment, but I’m fine now.”
“You sure?”
The worry in Xavier’s expression warmed my insides. “Absolutely. Now come. I need another bite of that roast.”
“You aren’t one of the girls who have qualms eating fluffy baby animals, are you?” He grinned.
I snorted. “They aren’t fluffy and cute anymore when I eat them. If I had to butcher my meat, I’d become a vegetarian.”
We headed back toward the dining room table, and again received a few curious glances.
After dinner we talked for a long time, mostly about my time in the US but eventually we moved on to funny stories from Xavier’s childhood. I quickly noticed that everyone skirted around a certain topic: Xavier’s father.
I had a feeling it wasn’t because the man had died and everyone grieved his absence. As I knew from experience, the silence surrounding the gaping hole a beloved person left behind felt different—not as resounding, more lingering. I hadn’t seen a single photo of a man in the entryway or living room, even though there were plenty of family pictures.
It was close to midnight when Milena and Marc went upstairs where their kids were already sleeping. Willow had fallen asleep in her wheelchair, her dark hair covering her face. She reminded me of Snow White in a tragic way. Then I felt guilty for the thought. Just because she was in a wheelchair, that didn’t make her a tragic figure. She had a loving family.
Georgia got up and moved toward her daughter, but Xavier rose from his chair. “Don’t wake her. I can carry her upstairs,” he whispered.
Georgia nodded, then mouthed good night before she headed upstairs as well.
Xavier scooped up his sister carefully, as if she was the most precious thing he knew. Her head dropped against his chest and she looked fragile and small against his tall frame. He raised his eyes, catching me staring at him.
And in that moment, I realized what I had been denying for a long time: somewhere along the way I had fallen for Xavier. Not for the brash manwhore or the arrogant asshole, but for the glimpses of the kind, funny Xavier that he so rarely showed to the outside world.
Oh, Evie, you idiot.
“Do you need my help?” I asked in a whisper.
He nodded and walked toward me. “Can you open Willow’s door for me?”
“Of course.”
We headed upstairs in silence, Xavier carrying his sister as if she weighed nothing, and me carrying my feelings like a stone weight shackled to my ankle, dragging me deeper into the depths of the ocean.
I stayed in the doorway as Xavier lowered his sister into her bed and covered her with a blanket before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Sherlock and Watson curled up on the rug beside the bed. I stepped back and Xavier walked out, closing the door.
For a moment neither of us said anything. Xavier’s warm scent surrounded me, and I could feel my body answering to it. My eyes lingered on Xavier’s mouth.
“Good night, Xavier,” I murmured, my voice catching in my throat.
“Good night, Evie,” Xavier said somewhat gruffly.
A small shiver passed through my spine, and I quickly disappeared into my bedroom.
Horse riding was scheduled for the late morning. So much for not making a fool out of myself in front of Xavier’s family. But seeing Xavier in faded jeans and an equally faded unbuttoned jeans shirt with a tight white wifebeater beneath it, a brown cowboy belt and boots, made up for it. The Marlboro Man would have wept tears of jealousy seeing Xavier, not that Xavier would go anywhere near cigarettes.