Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“I’m not saying you don’t wish to hear about it at all. You listen when I later tell you how my day went. I’m saying you don’t wish to hear in advance what my plans are. If you did, you’d ask. You never do. And like I said, it’s fine.”
Pausing, I tipped my head to the side. “Your brothers didn’t mention my appointment to you? Drey said you had lunch with them a few days ago. I suppose they just assumed you knew about it.”
“How did Drey know?” Dax asked, his eyes going flinty. Someone was feeling left out, apparently.
“I bumped into him when I went to see Harri at her doggy day care center—he was there with Sabre who, on another note, is in fact a complete nut. Anyway, Drey asked if I’d be working this weekend. When I said no, he asked how I planned to spend my time off.”
It was nothing short of sad that his brothers showed more interest in my life than Dax did. And maybe he was considering that, because his lips pursed in thought and his gaze turned inward. Right up until the doorbell rang.
I felt my brows meet. “Are you expecting anyone?”
He gave his head a small shake and strode out of the room. I slowly trailed behind him, wondering if maybe it was Rafael Cabello—the guy was a regular visitor. I heard the front door creak open a mere moment before I reached the living room doorway. From there, I watched as a figure practically launched themselves at Dax with a squealed, “Hi!”
I halted, taken aback as slim arms looped around his neck. Slim, feminine arms. An ugly lance of dark emotion stabbed my chest.
From this angle, I couldn’t see the woman’s face—it seemed to be pressed against his chest—but I already wanted to slap it.
I also wanted to slap him. He was letting her touch him … why? Had he forgotten he was married? Did how I might feel about this not matter? She’d better be a freaking relative of his or I was gonna make that motherfucker bleed.
“God, it’s been ages,” the stranger continued. “How are you?”
“Good,” Dax stiffly replied, disentangling himself from her.
She dumped an overstuffed duffel on the floor. “I tried calling you, but you never picked up or called me back. What gives?” She angled her head as she stared up at him, and the move gave me a good view of her face.
I sucked in a breath. A carbon copy of Gracie stood right there, smiling brightly at him.
Yeah, Gracie had an identical twin. I didn’t know Mimi any better than I’d known her sister, but I knew enough to be aware that they were complete opposites. Whereas Gracie was sweet and laidback, Mimi was mouthy and rebellious.
Once upon a time, Mimi had also done her best to set herself apart from her sister in terms of her appearance. Not nowadays. There was no dark eyeshadow, no black lipstick, no facial piercings, no hair dye.
Maybe it was to honor her sister or in some strange effort to keep Gracie “alive,” but Mimi seemed to have adopted her “look.” She wore a minimal amount of makeup, most of which was focused around her slanted brown eyes—a thin coat of mascara, a subtle use of black eyeliner, and a gentle shade of gold eyeshadow. Her mocha-brown hair fell around her oval face in choppy layers. She’d put on a little weight in the right places, giving her some sensual curves.
The only thing that hadn’t changed about Mimi was her edgy clothing style. She wore a ragged tee, ripped jeans, a thin leather jacket, and wickedly cool knee-high boots.
As if she sensed the weight of my attention, her eyes shifted to me. The light in her gaze dimmed, and her grin slipped. She looked back at Dax. “Who’s this?”
Uh, apparently, she had no idea he was now married.
I sidled up to Dax and flashed her a friendly smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. I’m Addison.”
Her eyes narrowing in recognition, she pointed at me. “You’re one of the Davenport sisters. The oldest.”
“That’s right.”
Dax slid me a dark look. “You were a Davenport. Now you’re a Mercier.”
Intrigue gleamed in Mimi’s gaze. “Oh, you married into the family? Who to? Caelan? You look his type.”
Dax cleared his throat. “Not my brother. Me. She married me.”
Mimi’s eyes snapped to his. “You …” She trailed off, her brows slowly sliding together. “I’m sorry?” The picture of lost and confused, she bounced her gaze from me to him. Mimi then looked down, arrowing in on his ring finger. She blanched, her mouth going slack. “No,” she breathed, taking a step back.
Thrown by the horror and pain warring for supremacy in her eyes, I fought a frown. Dax didn’t look surprised by her reaction. He didn’t look anything—his face was utterly vacant.