Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
An awkward silence sits between us, and my heart pounds. There’s a phrase on the tip of my tongue—one I want to say so badly. It would be so natural to say it. It would feel right.
But it’s not the right time.
I just hope there will be a right time.
“Goodbye, Miss Johnson.”
“Goodbye.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Carys
“Yes, I stopped by the lab. Relax, Mother,” I say, turning into the restaurant parking lot.
“I can’t relax. I’m your mother.”
“Not for long if you don’t stop obsessing about things. You’ll have a heart attack. Just something to consider.”
“Be careful, little girl, or I’ll change my new whole life policy’s beneficiary to someone else.”
“Ha! You have no one else, so good try.”
She scoffs. “And whose fault is that? Yours. Give me a grandchild so I can cut you out of my will.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, finding an open spot not too far from the entrance. I slide the Gremlin between two trucks and put it in park.
“I’m here,” I say, cutting the engine. “I gotta go.”
“Okay. Protect your peace, Carys. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything at all.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, baby girl.”
The evening sun is still uncomfortably warm as I trudge toward the restaurant. My stomach groans as if protesting my choice to join Dad and Aurora for dinner instead of going home to Gannon. I hear you, and I concur.
I grip my purse strap as my thought echoes in my head. “Instead of going home to Gannon.”
How quickly things change.
Every day, we grow closer, and every day my emotions grow more tangled. I wake up beside him each morning and am hit with overwhelming feelings. I’m scared to put a name on them or think about them too much. The fact that I acknowledge that I have feelings for Gannon and don’t feel like bolting out the door is terrifying enough. There’s no need to make it more complicated.
I take it one day at a time.
My phone buzzes in my palm as I tug the door open.
Tate: I don’t know who you’ve been spending your time with but they’re stupid.
If you only knew …
Me: I’m walking into dinner with Dad and Aurora.
Tate: Yup. Stupid.
Me: I have to agree with you on this one.
Tate: All jokes aside, want me to come save you and your hot stepmommy?
Me: I thought you said all jokes aside.
Tate: I did.
I roll my eyes.
Me: You should be coming to save me, not my stepmom.
Tate: Have you seen her?
I drop my phone into my purse and step to the hostess table. “Hi, I’m here for the Johnson party.”
“Yes,” the man behind the podium says. “Follow me.”
“Thanks.”
He leads me to a table in the back corner of the room. Dad, Aurora, and another couple sit at a round table talking. My father looks up, his eyes meeting mine before he looks away without acknowledging me.
Why am I here?
My nerves fray as I approach the table. I paint on the biggest smile I can manage. “Hey, everyone.”
“Carys,” Aurora says, her eyes lighting up. “I’m so glad you could come. Have a seat.”
She motions toward an empty chair between her and a dark-haired woman.
“These are our friends Gabe and Rochelle,” Aurora says as I sit. “Guys, this is Kent’s daughter, Carys.”
Rochelle’s smile is kind. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
“Kent, I didn’t know you had a kid,” Gabe says, before tipping back his beer.
I dip my chin to hide my flaming cheeks. This isn’t awkward at all.
“Yeah, I was married to her mom for a while,” Dad says as if that explains things.
“What do you do, Carys?” Rochelle asks, side-eyeing my father.
“She has the coolest job, Ro,” Aurora says.
“I own a small business called Plantcy,” I say. “It’s a mobile plant care company.”
Gabe chuckles. “They say there’s a niche for everything.”
“It’s really taking off,” I say, hoping my father’s listening. “I’m in the process of executing contracts with an up-and-coming artist and a chef. And I work for a huge corporation downtown.”
“Which one?” Gabe asks.
I smile proudly. “Brewer Group.”
Dad stares at me. “Isn’t one of your friends a Brewer?”
Of all the things he manages to know about me, it’s Tate. Ugh.
“Yes,” I say. “But he isn’t involved in my job there. It has nothing to do with him.”
“Right,” Dad says as if this somehow pisses him off.
A server stops by, taking my drink order and dropping off a new drink for Dad and Gabe. I shouldn’t order alcohol when I’m already fired up, but the thought of managing an hour at this table without some liquid courage seems like unnecessary torture.
“What do you do?” I ask Rochelle.
“I’m an elementary school teacher. I teach the fourth grade right now, which is a lot of fun.”
“I could never be a teacher,” I say.
“It might be the last thing on my list.” Aurora laughs. “I don’t know how you do it all day. I’d lose my mind. Sometimes clients will ask if they can bring their kids into the salon for me to do their hair and I want to run and hide.”