Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“Well,” Lyn said with a sigh on our way home, me driving because she’d had four cosmopolitans, “you were the belle of the ball.”
“Was I?” I teased her because she was a cute drunk—being tipsy made her giggly.
“Oh,” she said and burped, “yeah. I had to tell three of my colleagues that I was paying you very well and you did not want to leave my employment.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Did you now?”
“Yeah.” She hiccupped. “Aw, crap.”
“God, you’re cute.” I smiled at her.
She sighed deeply and after a moment said, “Weber Yates, I wish you liked girls.”
I grunted. “And I wish you could have met my brother. You would have liked him, and he sure as anything would have liked you back.”
“Oh…” Her voice broke, and she grabbed hold of my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
I nodded, choked up, not trusting myself to speak, the sting of losing him the only pain that had not eased with time. My brother, with his quick laughter and wit, his warm eyes that flashed when he was up to no good, and his innate kindness, was a loss I still felt as sharply as the day the army officers delivered the devastating news. I wished I could’ve seen him get older.
She sniffled, and I knew without looking that she had teared up.
“He…” I took a breath, glancing at her, seeing her biting her lip as she looked at me. “He was handsome, you know. He looked like my dad. Dark-brown hair and deep-blue eyes like your boys’. My mama always said that I was a younger, lighter version of him.”
“I wish I hadn’t missed him.”
“Next time around,” I told her.
“Absolutely,” she whispered and took hold of the hand I offered her. “Next time.”
After driving Lyn and the boys home and taking the Lexus back to Cy’s, I was surprised that his car wasn’t in the garage when I returned. It was late, and he was still out, and though I wanted to call and check on him, see where he was, I had no way to do that, as there was no landline in the house. Interestingly, though, when I walked into the kitchen, there was a cell phone on the bar. I was thinking maybe there was someone else in the house, but after a quick walk-through, I realized I was alone. When it suddenly played “Desperado,” I figured the call was for me and answered it.
“Very fuckin’ funny,” I grumbled.
“You needed a phone now that you’ve got the kids with you, and I should be able to get a hold of you, right?”
It seemed logical. “And you might need to call me sometimes too.” I grunted.
“Like tonight.”
“This one’s too fancy.”
“I’ll show you all the cool stuff it can do later.”
“All right,” I agreed.
“And how ’bout that ringtone?” He cackled.
“You’re hilarious,” I groused at him, and was rewarded with lilting laughter on the other end, sensual and mirthful.
“Oh, c’mon, get a sense of humor.”
“Where are you, Cy?”
“I need a favor.”
“Whatzat?”
“See, I met some friends out for drinks after work because you had to go to that party with Lyn and you wouldn’t have been home anyway, but now I realize I should have just gone there and waited for you.”
He was rambling, and his voice was rising. Someone was trashed. “And so?”
“Well, I got a little drunk at the bar, and then one of the guys said his buddy was having a party close by, so we all walked over to his place, and turned out, his buddy is my buddy Jeff, yeah, small world, but I left my car in the bar parking lot, and I don’t want them to tow it, but I don’t think I should be the one to move it, and—”
“You need to take a breath before you pass out.”
“What?”
“I’ll move it. Is there a second set of keys, or do I need to come get them from you?”
“You don’t want to get me?”
“I do.” I smiled into the phone. Cy sounding unsure and needy was very cute. “But if there’s a second set, I can drive to you instead of making you walk with me back to the car.”
“That makes more sense.”
“So?”
“Oh yeah, um, there’s a second set in the nightstand on my side of the bed.”
“Okay, and where’s the bar?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Just that I went out drinking without you.”
“You’re a big boy. You can do as you please.”
“No, I know.”
“Did you have a bad day?” I prodded gently.
“What makes you ask that?”
“You ain’t a big drinker. There must be a reason for you to do that on a whim.”
He sighed. “I had a long, shitty day. I lost a patient, really nice lady, mother, grandmother, right before Christmas—fuck.”
“And did you tell your friends that?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t… That’s not something we do. We don’t sit around and share our feelings. That’s what your boyfriend is for.”