Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I shoved that memory away. Not one I wanted to relive. Ever.
“You can sit and visit,” my mom told Oakley. “You’ve helped more than enough already. Let me and Jojo handle things in the kitchen. Visit with Wilder.” Her eyes shifted to me then, and she winked.
Great, Mom. Don’t be obvious about your very incorrect assumption of this situation or anything.
I gave her a pointed look, warning her to back off. This was for Sarah. It had nothing to do with Oakley and me. That ship had never even made it to the dock.
“I’m sure Sarah can tell me all I need to know and update me on what I missed. Oakley is free to help you or whatever she prefers to do,” I said in a way that I hoped made it clear to everyone that we were not an item. Not even fucking close.
I didn’t look at Oakley again, but I nodded my head to Porter, my stepdad, then went with Sarah to sit down across from Scott, who was watching Oakley.
Stop drooling, brother. Your date is watching you.
“I’ll just go help in the kitchen,” Oakley told my mother.
I could feel my mom’s eyes boring into me, but I didn’t meet them.
Stop trying to matchmake, Mom. Not the time or the woman.
The brunette with Scott didn’t move or offer to help. She did, however, turn her eyes up to me and smile brightly.
Sarah stood up and looked from the retreating forms of the other women, then back at me. “Uh, I should help too,” she said to me.
I knew she didn’t want to hurt my feelings, but she was clearly choosing to be with Oakley over me.
“Go on,” I reassured her with a wink.
Her relieved smile returned, and she took off after them with Belladonna at her side. It was Thanksgiving, and this was her first time to have a real one with my family. I wanted it to be all she had hoped. If being with Oakley was part of that, then so be it.
Porter’s large hand slapped my knee. “Never thought you were a dumb man.” His deep voice was gravelly. “But I’m second-guessing that.”
I shot him an annoyed look.
“He needs fucking glasses,” Scott said, agreeing with his father and not caring that the woman beside him was hearing this.
Jackass.
They both needed to put a stop to all the Oakley talk now. Sarah didn’t need to overhear this and get the wrong idea.
“She is Sarah’s aunt. Who I am putting up with for my daughter’s sake. If Sarah didn’t love her so much, she wouldn’t be here. I’d rather not have to see her ever again.”
“Like I said, he needs glasses,” Scott said, looking at me as if I were insane.
“You’re old enough to know by now that beauty is only skin deep and a person’s nature can make them ugly. When I look at Oakley, I don’t see anything worth keeping.” It was a lie, and the moment I said it, I felt guilty.
Movement from the doorway caught my attention, and I turned my head to see Oakley standing there, staring at me as if I had just slapped her face. Those blue eyes were wide, and—fuck me—they were wet with unshed tears before she spun around and was gone. That was something I hadn’t meant for her to hear. I didn’t want to hurt her, just keep her at arm’s length. No, screw that. I needed to keep her at a football field’s length.
“I might not know her,” Porter said. “But I’m real good at reading people. Have been most of my life. Ain’t never once been fooled by someone. And the couple of hours I’ve spent around that girl, watched her with Sarah and your mom, well, I think you are wrong, son. That pretty face has a kind heart to go with it. You’d better not let your momma hear you talk about her like that. I think Azalea has already fallen in love with her.” He clamped his hand on my shoulder. “Good luck with that.”
My throat burned as I sat there, fighting the urge to go apologize to Oakley. No one else seemed to have noticed her overhearing me. But I knew she had.
Even after the shit she had put me through, the hell I had lived through because of her, I still couldn’t bring myself to hate her. I had lied to myself for years, claiming I hated her, but faced with the reality, I knew it was never true. She’d broken my heart. That was what I had hated. Not her. I doubted I ever could.
Nineteen
Oakley
Get through this meal and leave. That was all I had to do.
I was a pro at pretending. God knew I had pretended my way through every holiday at my dad and Cleo’s since they’d gotten married. Remembering when the holidays had been exciting and full of joy were hard. My memories of Mom were so few, but the ones I did have, I clung to.