Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
The music goes soft, and she cuddles up to me, her mouth going to my ear. “Will you dance with me?” she asks me, and I don’t answer her; instead, I push away from the table, holding out my hand for her.
She slides her hand in mine as we move to the side of the table, and she wraps her arm around my neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her even closer to me.
“No,” she says. “You were too busy telling me how much you hated my outfit.”
I chuckle when I look over and see that Brock and Everleigh are now dancing on the other side. “I love you.” I bend and kiss her lips.
“How much?” She looks up at me.
“I’m in a bar dancing with you instead of having my face buried in the middle of your thighs.” I wink at her. “That’s how much.”
“Okay”—she turns in my arms—“we’re out.” She holds up her hands at Brock and Everleigh. “We’re going home.” She shrugs. “He’s much more romantic than I am.”
Chapter 31
Sierra
The phone rings beside me on my desk, and I look down, seeing his name flash across the screen. I press the green button before leaning back in my chair, “Hello.”
“Hey, baby”—his voice goes soft—“whatcha doing?”
“I’m about to have tea with the queen,” I joke, and the way he chuckles makes me smile even more.
“Oh, I didn’t want to interrupt tea with the queen. I was just calling to see how your day was going.”
“It’s going good.” I smile as I look out the bay window. “I finished a redesign of one of the contracts I got a couple of months ago. So it’s been a relaxed sort of day. But now I guess it’s better since you called.” I smile, thinking of him.
“Is it?” he questions. “Do you know I’m always the one who calls you?”
“What?” I shake my head. “That’s not true. I call you all the time.”
“Name once,” he pushes, and I look up at the ceiling, trying to think back. He’s right, I don’t think I’ve ever just called him. “I’ve been busy.”
He chuckles, and it makes my stomach flutter and certain parts of me tingle, parts that after almost two months should stop fluttering already. “Which is why I call you every day, just to say hello.”
“No, you call me every day so you can be ‘I’m the one who always calls you,’” I mimic his voice horribly.
“I’ll be home around five,” he says, laughing. “We can argue then.”
“You just want to argue with me so we can have make-up sex,” I point out.
“Baby,” he murmurs softly, “don’t make me hard when I’m on my way to meet my guys.”
“Goodbye, Caleb,” I snap, “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” he replies softly, and I hang up, putting the phone beside my keyboard.
It’s been two weeks since I told him I loved him, or better yet, he told me he loved me, and it’s been smooth sailing ever since. Mind you, nothing has been happening with my birth parents. No more mysterious phone calls, no more notes telling me to leave. Nothing. It’s been crickets. I guess no news is good news. I’m about to get up and maybe go start making dinner, when my phone rings. I look down, thinking it’s him again, but instead, it’s an unknown caller.
“Hello,” I answer, putting it on speakerphone.
“Is this Sierra?” the male voice asks me.
“This is.” I sit up in my chair, looking down at the numbers, counting how long we are on the phone, ticking by.
“Hi,” he says, “my name is Brendan Frisby.” I try to place his name but come out blank. “You hired me through the DNA site to trace your ancestors. I’m a forensic genealogist.”
“Oh, hi,” I reply, suddenly getting nervous.
“I’m calling you today because I have some news.” The hair on the back of my neck starts to stand. “I’ve been working on your DNA matches, and I’ve found a close relative.”
I close my eyes. “How close?”
“I will email you right now, and we can go over the tracing at the same time,” he states, and a ping shows me a new email has come in.
My hand hovers shakily over the mouse as I click on it and open the attachment. The top of the tree has my eyes hovering over it. “I have traced your ancestors back to the eighteen hundreds.” The names are totally new to me and not at all the ones I have on the whiteboard, which is weird.
“These aren’t the names I have on my board,” I tell him.
“That would probably be your paternal side, which is what I’ll be working on next, but I did your maternal side.” If I thought I was going to throw up before, it’s nothing like how I feel right now.