Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
In fact, the first time we met, one nearly did…
I glance at my clock and wince as I turn down Dad’s driveway. He told me to be here at six, said he wanted me to meet someone, but now it’s six-twenty and I have three missed calls.
I’m sure he thinks the worst, that I’m showing up late just to spite him. And hell, maybe part of me is. I could have clocked out on time, but when Lane asked me to help clear a fallen tree from the main hiking trail, I agreed.
And now, there will most likely be hell to pay. No good deed goes unpunished, and all that shit.
By the time I make it to his house, which is set way back on a heavily wooded plot of land, he’s on the front porch, pacing. Fuck.
I park and hop out, my hands in the air like I’m trying to placate a rabid dog. “Atlas!” he growls, and I realize that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.
“Sorry, Dad, got stuck at work. The storm earlier today knocked a tree down, and we had to get it off the trail.”
He continues glaring, and for a second, I worry he isn’t going to let it go.
So, I deflect. “You said you wanted me to meet someone?”
“Grace,” he murmurs, his features soften momentarily before going hard all over again. “They’re running late, too. But her kid doesn’t have a damn storm to blame.”
I had a feeling I was here to meet the woman who’s been occupying all of his free time, but the fact that she has a kid is news. Very surprising news, at that.
Dad barely likes me, and I’m his flesh and blood, so I can’t really imagine him playing house with someone else’s kid.
Guess love makes us do crazy things…
The sound of tires spinning on the gravel jerks both of our eyes back to the driveway. An older gray sedan makes its way toward us.
I squint, trying to make out the driver, but they’re too far away.
“You best be on your best behavior tonight,” Dad says without ever looking my way.
His warning is useless, though; aside from being a grown-ass man that knows how to act right, I learned a long time ago not to piss him off if I can help it. The consequences are rarely worth it.
Finally, the car comes to a stop in front of the house. Dad’s down the steps and at the driver’s side before the engine’s even off, pulling the door open.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but when a short, slightly plump woman in her mid-forties steps out, well—let’s just say I’m surprised.
Maybe it’s all of the shit Ellis watches on TV, but for some reason, I was half-expecting a young bombshell behind the wheel.
I watch with bated breath as Dad leans in and whispers something in her ear. Is he berating her for being late, as well? Will he punish her? I flex my fists at my sides, ready to spring into action if need be. But it seems like whatever he’s saying makes her smile, which eases some of the weight pressing against my breastbone.
Maybe he’s different with her…nicer.
“Come meet Grace,” he calls as he leads her around the front of the car.
I take the porch steps two at a time, making it to them right as the back door swings open and a wisp of a girl climbs out.
“Grace, this is my son Atlas,” he says, gently propelling her forward. “Atlas, this is Grace.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she says with a kind smile, her dull auburn hair sparkling with hints of silver in the evening light.
It’s a fight to keep my face blank because this is damn sure the first I’ve ever heard of her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I turn my focus back to the kid. She’s small, five feet if I’m being generous, with a shock of red hair and a frown that could rival the grumpiest of old men. It’s hard to tell how old she is, other than a hell-of-a-lot younger than me.
“This is Nora,” Grace says, nudging her daughter forward.
Dad goes to shake her hand, but she steps back, clutching an orange-covered book to her chest.
I guess this is their first-time meeting, too. Interesting.
The tips of his ears go red, and for a second, I worry he’s about to go off, but instead he smiles. It’s the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, but it’s better than yelling, so I’ll take it.
“Well, let’s head inside before the sky falls,” Dad says, guiding Grace away from her daughter and up the steps.
Nora glares after them with all the rage of a newborn feral kitten.
Despite the wind starting to pick up, she makes no move to head inside.
“You coming, Pip?” The nickname slips out unbidden, but somehow, it fits.