Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Gross,” Ryland declared, looking a little green at the idea of a toothless blowjob.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, kid,” Frank said, shuffling over toward the fridge to grab a beer that I was almost sure he wasn’t supposed to be mixing with his medications. But, fuck, if I lived to his age, I didn’t want to hear shit about what I should or shouldn’t eat.
“One thing about ladies with a few years on them,” he said, pausing to chug half the beer, let out a hacking cough, then wipe his mouth on the back of his sleeve before continuing, “they grew up in a different time. They were expected to be good little housewives who gave it up on Saturday night while they thought about their grocery list. They’re making up for lost time now. Where are all the girls?” he asked, looking around.
“It’s three in the afternoon, Frank,” I reminded him. “The club girls aren’t going to show up until eight or nine.”
“Isn’t that three hours past your bedtime?” Ryland teased.
Before Frank could clap back, footsteps rushed down the steps.
And there was Grayson, his prospect vest on full display.
“The fuck happened to you?” he asked, looking at Ryland.
“Crash.”
“Well, it had been six weeks. You were due. Pops, did you see this?” Grayson asked, thrusting his phone out toward me.
And right there on the screen was a vaguely familiar face. One I’d once looked up when Zoe was asleep next to me, and Lainey on my chest.
Travis Butler.
Lainey’s biological father.
He was ten years older and seventy pounds heavier. And his hairline seemed to be engaging in a long-distance relationship with his eyebrows.
But there he was.
In a mugshot.
“What’d they get him on?” I asked, wondering if Zoe had heard the news yet.
“Tax evasion and racketeering,” Grayson said.
“Oh, he’s going away away.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Ryland asked. “Ma was always worried he might try to come and take Lainey.”
“It’s definitely a bit of a load off. Though I’m not looking forward to explaining all this to Lainey one day.”
“Hey!” Amy’s voice barked through the clubhouse. The clomp of her combat boots moved across the floorboards. “What is with this text?” she asked, shoving her phone screen at Ryland. “‘Almost died. Haha,’” she read off. “And then no answer to my fifteen follow-up texts?”
“My phone died.”
“There are these things called chargers. And if you stick one in—”
She was cut off by yet another voice.
“Coast?” Zoe called, rushing through the house with Lainey and our son in tow. “Did you hear?”
“That Ryland finally killed his car? Yeah, heard that.”
“No. The other news,” she said, eyes bright, glancing down at Lainey.
“Oh, right. Yeah, I just heard. How are we feeling about that?” I asked.
“Like we should go out to celebrate,” she said, shooting me a big smile.
There’d been a scare a few years back when Lainey innocently moved into the frame on one of Lainey’s live videos on one of her socials. She’d been a huge hit—the little mini-me of her mother. And a certain sperm donor showed up in Zoe’s DMs, talking about them monetizing their daughter.
We’d both been firmly against that shit.
And Travis had started to push.
Until I showed up at his doorstep to remind him to back the fuck off.
“I mean,” Zoe said, lips curving up in a wicked little smile, “I was the one to tip off the feds a few years back. I just didn’t realize they’d actually been building a case.”
My woman.
A constant fucking surprise.
Yeah, we definitely needed to celebrate.
“Casa Nostra?” I asked, knowing her spot. Ever since that night she met Tony Barelli—our friendly, local mob boss—we’d been going there for just about every life event. And often just because.
“What are we celebrating?” Lainey asked, looking up at her mother.
Zoe’s gaze slid in my direction.
“The end of one chapter,” she said.
We would tell her the beginning of her story one day. Just not quite yet.
“And the beginning of the best one yet,” I agreed, pulling Zoe close and pressing a kiss to her temple.