Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Because he’s probably regretted not applying every single moment since he walked away from his laptop.
He picks me up in his arms and spins me around, looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes. It is the first time I’ve seen him happy since Bailey came back. I smile back at him. His smile dissipates as we both remember why we’re here.
Bailey. Dean. Heartbreak. Right.
He puts me down slowly on the porch.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“You’re welcome, honey.” I press my palms over his cheeks, squishing them like he is a toddler.
The noise of something being dumped on the counter comes from the house. I snap my head to where it comes from and see Dean looking like a feral predator, ambling toward us.
I instinctively take a step back. Lev doesn’t move an inch.
“What’s happening here?” Dean looks between us.
“Just hitting on Dixie, is all.” Lev flashes a hedonistic smirk and, in that moment, looks like a carbon copy of his father. Sheesh, those genes.
Dean rushes over to us. I’ve never seen him like this before. Alert. Alive. I can’t believe he actually thinks this isn’t an innocent, loving moment. What’s wrong with him?
“He is kidding!” I narrow my eyes. “You really think I’d make a move on your son?”
“I don’t think you’re making a move on my son, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a move on you to prove a point.”
“And what point would that be?” Lev folds his gigantic arms over his chest, amused.
“That Dixie and I should be together,” Dean spits out.
“Yeah, I stand corrected. This is entirely not a childish display of jealousy.” Lev’s chest rumbles.
Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “Dixie, can I speak to you for a second?”
I glance down at my watch and frown. I have a showing in thirty minutes. I really didn’t think my moment with Lev would turn into almost an entire hour. “Actually, now’s not a great time.”
Dean looks like I just kicked him in the face. I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.
I’ve never denied him anything. But the truth is…now isn’t a great time.
And maybe I should be taking my own advice. The one I just gave Lev, about not being dragged down with the people you love.
“Okay…” he says slowly. “Tonight, then?”
“Oh, man.” Lev puts his fist to his mouth, chuckling. “This is painful.”
“Shut up.” Dean squints at him.
“Tonight’s no good, either.” I shake my head, a blush creeping over my face. “I’m filming this realtor show in LA, remember? Our office is taking part in one of those parties. Good for PR, they said.”
“Yeah. Uh-huh.” Dean rolls his tongue inside his cheeks. “Guess I’ll call and schedule an appointment with your assistant, since you’re so busy all of a sudden.”
“Perfect.” I ignore his sarcasm, feigning cheerfulness. “Jessica has access to my calendar. While I have you in such an accepting mood, I should also warn you that I sent an application on your son’s behalf to the Air Force Academy.” I deliver the news matter-of-factly and lethally.
Dean stares at me with an odd expression. One I’ve never seen on him before.
Somewhere between wonder and awe.
I think I see some hate thrown in too. But I manage not to cringe.
Ignoring him, I rise to my tiptoes to pinch Lev’s cheek. “I think he is going to get in. He’s more than qualified.”
For the first time, I leave the Cole residence not feeling like I’ve been sent away shamefaced after trying to steal something that isn’t mine.
Dean Cole’s heart may not be beating again quite yet…
But I think we all heard a faint pulse.
CHAPTER 36
Lev
“Dad, you left the trash out again,” Knight hollers, using the tip of his boot to roll me over on our backyard lawn. I’m holding a bottle of beer in my hand, but I’m not drunk. Not even a little. In fact, most of the liquid soaked against the ground when I popped the bottle open.
Because apparently, I’m too fucking depressed to even take a sip now. Great.
“You’re funny. And he is not home,” I say in a deadpan, squinting up at the sun, like it’s a staring contest. Like I might win.
“Hit rock bottom yet?” He half-squats, placing his palms on his knees and peering down at me.
“Think so.” I murmur into the bottle, taking a pull. The pool lounger is two feet away.
I can’t remember why I didn’t sit there when I walked out the porch doors.
“Great!” Knight smiles sunnily. “That means you’re ready for some hard truths. I’ll get myself comfortable.”
He takes a seat on one of the loungers on the ledge of our pool, grabs me by the back of my shirt and perches me on the lounger next to him.
I sometimes forget I’m not the only motherfucker in this house that can move a tractor just by breathing directly at it. Knight’s a beast.