Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“That’s not morbid or anything,” Lachlan jokes.
“You know what I mean. I’m sad Mr. and Mrs. Pearce are gone, but this property butts up to Ashby Lake. Perfect for summer boating, fishing, and all that. The house is a cabin I’ve never seen inside, but it wouldn’t matter. It could be remodeled if needed.”
“Well, you’re about to see inside,” I tell him as we file out of my truck, grabbing our gifts. I don’t know what anyone else bought the twins, but I’m hopeful they like what I chose.
In a collective group, gift bags in hand, we make our way to the door. Emerson, with Lilly on her hip, and Monroe in front of us, Emerson knocks on the door. Brogan opens it, all smiles, and then gasps.
“Holy wow,” she says. “I—come in.” She steps back and allows us to enter. “River! Rayne! You have someone here to see you.”
Cheers and the pitter-patter of little feet echo through the house. When the girls reach us, they stop and stare.
“Girls, say hello,” Brogan coaches them.
“Hi,” they say at the same time and wave.
Emerson bends down with Lilly still on her hip. “Happy Birthday. We thought we would come and celebrate you turning four.”
“This many.” River, I know it’s her because her hair is a little darker than her sister’s, holds up four fingers.
“That’s right,” Emerson says.
“Who was at—” Briar stops in her tracks as her eyes take us all in. I imagine it’s a sight. Five big guys covered in ink, with three women and a baby, all holding gift bags, standing in the entryway of her house.
“We’re here to party.” Monroe holds up the two gift bags in her hands.
“Are those for us?” Rayne asks.
“Of course. It’s your birthday,” Monroe replies.
“Come on in,” Brogan says. She motions toward the living area, and we start to move.
It’s obvious they were not expecting all of us to show up, even though we were invited. I follow everyone into the living room, and we place the gifts on the fireplace, where there are a few others. The twins are bouncing on their feet. They’re so excited.
There’s a knock at the door, and Briar and Brogan share a look. “Are you expecting anyone else?” Brogan asks her sister.
“No. I—no. Everyone who was invited is already here.” Briar shrugs and moves toward the front door. I stand to follow her, because I know who it is. She opens the door and smiles. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong house.”
The kid looks down at the piece of paper in his hand. “Says delivery for Forrest Huntley.”
“That’s me.” I step up beside Briar and hand the kid his tip. I paid for the food over the phone. “Thanks,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome. Um, where do you want these?”
“We can unload here. I’ll take them.” He’s just a teenage kid, but I’m not about to invite him into their home.
The kid shoves his tip into his pants pocket, picks up the first insulated bag, and starts unloading pizza boxes. I’m certain I went overboard, but I know that the guys and I can put away some pizza, as can my sister and Monroe. Besides, I wanted to make a splash. I wanted this party to be one the twins will always remember. At least, I hope they will. Since they’re only turning four, it’s hard to tell. Either way, I hope they talk about it for weeks to come.
“Thank you,” I tell the kid once I have all ten pizza boxes in my arms. “Can you point me toward the kitchen?” I ask Briar.
“Sure.” Her voice sounds funny, but I can’t do much about that with my arms full of pizza boxes. Tilting my head to the side, I follow her to the right, which is the opposite of the living room, and place the pizzas down on the island.
“I did half pepperoni and half cheese. Our gang will eat anything, and I wasn’t sure what you all liked, or the girls, so I thought cheese and pepperoni were a safe bet.”
Briar stands on the opposite end of the island. Her hands are at her sides, and tears shimmer in her big green eyes. Have I upset her? My gut twists, thinking about how what I hoped was a nice gesture turned into making her upset. I don’t think, I just walk around the island and pull her into my arms. To my surprise, she comes willingly.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t speak. She makes no move to pull away, so I hold her a little tighter, letting one hand run up and down her spine to soothe her. I can’t help but notice how well she fits in my arms. As if she were made to be here. My heart beats like a drum at a rock concert. She’s not mine. I know that, but why does she feel like she could be? I push those thoughts down deep and focus on the task at hand. Soothing her, letting her know I’m here. When she finally pulls away, she wipes at her cheeks and offers me a quivering smile.