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)
I smile widely as she approaches the front porch. “Briar.”
“Hey, Forrest.” She waves and smiles shyly.
She steps up onto the porch, and I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Come on in. The potatoes are already on the grill. I need to get the steaks going.”
“I hope you didn’t go through a lot of trouble. Anything is fine.”
She’s wrong. This is our first date. She might not know that yet, but that’s what this is, and anything isn’t fine. I need to show her I want to see what this is between us. I need to understand why I can’t stop thinking about her.
“No trouble. Come on in. What would you like to drink?” I ramble off my options.
“You drink a lot of juice boxes, do you?” she teases.
“I bought those for the girls when I thought they would be here with you.”
“Forrest.” Her tone is soft, and her eyes sparkle. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I want to. So, what will it be?”
“Just water for now. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. I’m all set.” I hand her a bottle of water. “Let me toss these steaks on the grill, and I’ll be right in.”
“I can come and keep you company.”
“You sure? It’s hot as hell out there.”
“I won’t melt.” She chuckles.
“Come on, then, Momma. Let’s get these on and we can chat while they’re cooking. Wait, I have salad too. Do you want that now or later?”
“Later is fine.”
I nod, letting her know I heard her. With the steaks in one hand, I open the door with the other, and motion for her to step out onto the deck.
“Need this?” she asks, holding up the second bottle of water I placed on the island.
“Yes. Thanks.”
She grabs my bottle of water and follows me out onto the deck. I check on the potatoes that are almost done and place the steaks on the grill before taking a seat across from her at the patio table. “How was your day?”
“Good. Uneventful. There’s not much excitement with medical coding.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“I do. It was the right choice for me at the time. I was young and had the twins to take care of. Choosing a career that allowed me to work from home made sense. I was lucky enough to find a position from home when we lived in Nashville and when we moved to Ashby.”
“So you’re from Nashville?”
“Born and raised. What about you?”
“Ashby native. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“It’s a nice town. I’m glad I decided to move here to raise the girls.”
“And Brogan decided to tag along?” I’m trying to learn more about her without prying too much.
“Yeah. We lost our mom when we were young. Just before our second birthday. Car accident.”
“Damn,” I mutter. “That’s tough. I’m sorry for your loss.”
She smiles and shrugs. “We didn’t know her. We don’t remember her. We have pictures. Our dad, he was incredible. He made sure we had everything we needed. We never felt like we were missing the love of a parent. Of course, we missed having a mom, but he talked about her constantly, and her memory was kept alive.”
“I noticed you said was.”
“Yeah, we lost him too.” She clears her throat. “He was in the hospital at the same time I was delivering the twins. He was fighting stage four pancreatic cancer. We lost him a few days later.” Her eyes well with tears, but she blinks a few times, pushing them away.
“Briar.” I don’t know what to say to that. I know that there is nothing I can say that would make her feel any better. Now the reasoning behind her tattoo being for her father as well makes even more sense. “Bring it in, Momma.” I stand, move to her side of the table, and wrap her in a hug where she sits. She half laughs, half sobs, and I hold her a little tighter. Eventually, I have to pull away. I wipe her tears with my thumb before forcing myself to take my seat.
“My parents are assholes,” I blurt out my confession. “They’re alcoholics who never should have been able to have kids. There are ten years between Emerson and me. I did the best I could. When I was old enough and moved out, I took her every weekend and every other time my parents would allow it. Honestly, they didn’t care. They were only worried about the welfare check that came their way until she turned eighteen.”
“That’s tough.”
“As soon as I could, I bought this place.” I point to the house. “I wanted her to have a safe place. A true home. The day she turned eighteen, I moved her in with me and paid her way through college.”
“And she’s married to Roman, who works with you,” she says, as she tries to keep everyone straight.