Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
The fact he lied in the first place and didn’t correct it meant that everything built upon it was a sham.
“Dinner’s going to be ready in about five minutes,” my mom calls from the kitchen. It’s dead silent in there, all waiting for me to respond.
I attempt a cheery voice as I call back, “Awesome. I’m starved.”
But I’m really not. My stomach is knotted, and my chest aches.
My mom starts giving orders to Laney and Brian to set the table, and my dad meanders back into the living room. I go ahead and sit up to make a show to him that I’m okay. When he gives me a tentative smile, I level one back at him so overly bright I know it looks fake.
“Your mom made rigatoni marinara… your favorite,” he says, shifting from foot to foot. He seems uncomfortable, perhaps fearful I’ll have a breakdown on his watch. Dad was always the one we played with, and he helped us with schoolwork. Mom was the one who nursed our wounds and held our secrets.
“I can smell it,” I reply with a chuckle. My stomach growls in response, a pointed reminder I’ve yet to eat today despite my mom trying to tempt me with some delicacy every half hour.
When the doorbell rings, my dad turns that way, saying, “I’ll get it.”
I frown because he doesn’t seem startled by an unexpected visitor. A tingle snakes up my spine, a sneaking suspicion something isn’t right. It’s confirmed when my dad opens the door to show Cage there. His eyes come right to mine, and he looks determined.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask. My dad steps back from the door in a silent invitation. Cage takes the offer, steps up over the threshold, and gives my dad a nod.
“Your mom invited him to have dinner with us tonight,” Dad answers.
Irritation sweeps through me. I’m going to give my meddling mother a piece of my mind. I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, throw him out, Dad. I’ve got nothing to say to him.”
My voice isn’t hushed or whispered like the conversations that have been going on around me today. Laney, Brian, and my mom come out of the kitchen when they hear me, but all three smile at Cage.
“I invited him too,” my dad replies, his voice firm and brooking no argument. “So I won’t be tossing him out.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Brian jumps in. “Come on, Jaime. Give him a chance.”
I shoot my brother a hard glare because I’m still sore at him for getting me in this mess, but I can’t say I’m surprised. He’s taken with Cage for not only rescuing me, but also because he apparently has some contacts with the DA’s office through his boss, and they might be able to work something out for Brian to avoid jail time.
My gaze moves to Laney, but she merely holds a fist up in solidarity. It says she’s on my side no matter what I want. I give my attention to my mother, who merely stares back at me with empathy. She knows I’m struggling and she wants me to be happy, but since she invited Cage, it means she has some romantic notions we should work things out.
Finally, I turn back to Cage. I hate that I notice just how damn handsome he is. He has dark circles under his eyes, which are proof he didn’t sleep well last night. Otherwise, he looks yummy dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a well-fitted peacoat that’s covered with a dusting of snow, which had started to fall about an hour ago.
God… when he crashed through the warehouse window last night, he’d been like a modern-day superhero. Swinging on that rope, bursting in with confidence and surety as if he did that maneuver weekly. When he’d knelt before me, I couldn’t help but notice the tight black t-shirt, black fatigue pants, and military boots. Muscles bulging, he’d been strapped with weapons, death in his eyes. At that moment, I hadn’t been able to think of anything other than how ungodly handsome he looked.
Me being pissed off came a bit later, and it hasn’t diminished yet.
My inclination is to grab my coat and purse, haughtily tell my parents that while they’re free to invite Cage to their dinner table, I have the freedom to choose not to sit there with him, then flounce out the door. I could retreat to the sanctity of my apartment where Cage wouldn’t be allowed in.
Cage regards me with determination and hope. He’s not going to be easy to put off, but it occurs to me that as long as he’s surrounded by my family, he’s not going to have the chance to beg, grovel, and plead his case to me. We’ll have to keep the conversation light around the dinner table. He won’t be able to delve into our relationship issues and I can keep quiet, knowing no one will force me to participate.