Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
"Fuck, fine," Zion growls, clearly not thrilled. "But I'm telling Ma you're stalking Emma."
"I'll tell her that you're the one who set her shed on fire." It was an accident, but I fully intend to leave that part out of the story. He was fifteen, playing with fireworks he wasn't supposed to have. One went through the window and exploded.
"That was ten years ago."
"She loved that shed," Gideon murmurs. "She could be ninety and would still be pissed."
"Fuck. You're both assholes."
"You're welcome for the model," I say before Zion hangs up on me, making Gideon chuckle.
"He's going to snap one day, and it'll be your fault."
"I didn't hear you takin' his side."
"I like stirring the pot." Gideon shrugs, his eyes still closed.
I laugh quietly. At least he's fucking honest. He does like stirring the pot. He's been doing that shit his entire life, just to see what we do. It's quality entertainment to his big ass.
My phone buzzes with an incoming message.
I grin when I read it.
Ma: Have you convinced my future daughter-in-law to like you yet?
I'm working on it, Ma.
She's been hounding me ever since I told her about Emma. She's dying to meet her, but I'm not pushing my luck. I can barely get her to stay in one place long enough for me to see her. If I throw my family at her, she may disappear to Antarctica.
Ma: Work faster. Your brothers are never going to give me grandchildren. You're my only hope.
I chuckle, tossing my phone back in the console just as the delivery truck pulls off. I sit upright, my eyes locked on Emma again. She's staring at the box in her hands, her brows furrowed. I don't know what's in it, but her expression says she's afraid it may bite her.
She spins on her heel, heading back toward her house. "Gran!" she shouts as she marches up the sidewalk. "What in the world did you order from TikTok this time? It better not be more freeze-dried candy!"
"She's cute," Gideon says.
I shoot a withering look in his direction.
"I'm just saying, I get why you're all fucked up over her," he says, shaking his head. "Jesus. I didn't say I wanted to sleep with her."
"Try it, and they'll never find your body."
A smile ghosts across his face. "So, it's like that, huh? You're serious about marrying her?"
"Yeah." Until she wobbled her way into my life, marriage and babies had never even crossed my mind. Ma wasn't kidding when she said my brothers and I have been single too long. None of us have ever made time for dating. We've always been busy with other shit, like the military and then forming the company.
Frankly, I didn't want to make time for dating. Women complicate shit without even meaning to do it, and my life was perfect exactly the way it was. But now? Well, I'm about two seconds from losing my proverbial shit just to get this woman to agree to a date.
"What are you going to do about the fact that she won't give you the time of day?"
"Don't know," I growl. "She likes me."
"You sure about that?"
I shoot him another look, which makes him chuckle.
"Want my advice?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"You invited me on this little criminal mission."
"Uh, no. You invited your damn self."
He flips me off. "Cut off her escape route," he suggests. "If you're in her face all the time and her back is against the wall, sooner or later, she'll have to stop running and face whatever the fuck is going on between the two of you."
That's…actually not terrible advice. If I'm in her personal space all the time, sooner or later, she won't be able to deny how she really feels. She'll have to deal with it. And if forcing her to spend time with me means helping her carry a little of the burden placed squarely on her shoulders? Well, that's not a bad thing either.
I just need a plan.
Luckily for me, I know a thing or two about coming up with one of those.
Chapter Five
Emma
"Gran, I love you, but you're going to drive me to drink," I say, shaking my head at Gran, who's knitting on the sofa like I didn't receive a panicked call from Lottie, our neighbor, earlier today, informing me that they escaped and took the car again. "You and Bets have to learn to behave."
"Pah." She flaps a hand in the air. "We did that for almost eight decades. Now, we're old enough to do what the hell we want."
"You're never too old to be arrested," I remind her, chewing my bottom lip. "You can't keep driving without a license."
"Oh, hush, dear," Bets says, patting me on the hand. "We didn't even go far today. Just to Cookeville and back."
"Bets!" Gran turns a scowl on her, earning a sheepish grin from Bets.