Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“What?”
“There’s nothing ordinary about you, Lizzy-bit,” he said, raising his voice. “Anybody who mistakes you for ordinary is a damn fool who deserves to bleed out on the floor after you eviscerate them with your sharp tongue.”
“Aww you do say sweetest things, Gideon,” she crooned, and lifted a forkful of her bacon quiche lorraine.
“I try.” He nodded amiably and tucked into his own asparagus, ricotta, and prosciutto pastry.
For the next few moments they focused on their food.
“So tell me about your brothers,” she invited, after polishing off half of her quiche and washing it down a sip of wine.
“Do I have to?” He was embarrassed by the high note of protest in that question.
“Nox and Niall, right? Accountant and attorney?”
“Niall is the oldest but you wouldn’t know it. He does whatever the fuck Nox wants him to. He’s harmless enough but he and Nox are a unit, and when they’re in the same room, Niall turns into a total prick. Nox has his nose buried so far up our dad’s arse, I fear—at this point—it would have to be surgically removed if there’s to be any hope of saving him. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep Dad happy. If that means cutting me out of his life permanently, then so be it.”
“And your father would want that? For you to remain ostracized?”
“He hasn’t shown signs of wanting anything different.” Gideon strove for indifference but he could hear the bite of hurt and betrayal in his own voice.
“You mentioned before that you and your siblings were close as kids.”
“Aye. I’m younger than Niall by three years and Nox by only a year. We were inseparable. Kenny is two years younger than I am…and when she was old enough, she tagged along and tried to involve herself in all our boy business. We pretended to hate it, but really, we all adored her and were fiercely protective of her and each other. Nobody fucked with us. We were a team.”
“It must hurt like hell to be excluded from that team,” Beth observed.
“Way to state the obvious, Scrappy,” he snapped, and then immediately regretted his tone when he saw her flinch in reaction to the acid in his voice.
He sighed and softened his tone. “Of course it fucking hurts. And the way my brothers would have you believe it, it’s all my fault. For being unreasonable and unrealistic and selfish. For being a fool. And God help me, while Kenny might not ever have said it in so many words, I believe she feels the same way they do.”
“They’re wrong.” Her voice brooked no argument.
And, even though he knew it was just Beth being a fucking know-it-all again, this was one time Gideon desperately wanted her to be right.
“Do you think so?” he asked, curling his lips into what he hope was a cold, ironic, not-at-all hopeful smile.
“I know so,” she said. “And as you may recall from our past interactions—I’m seldom wrong.”
He chuckled at that. “Aye, I have a brief recollection of that.”
“I’ve told you before, your brothers took the easy way out. I strongly suspect that they’re burning up with envy because you had the guts to live life on your terms. And while you’ve hit a rough spot, you’re happy. Aren’t you?”
The last two words were uncertain, as if—for the very first time—it was occurring to her that Gideon may not be happy.
“I’m happy. I wasn’t for a long time, but that all changed when I moved into the house. For a long time, I was still allowing my father to dictate the way I lived. The tattoo parlor was a dumb idea. I was miserable. And I only started down that path because I knew how much he would despise it. Like a fucking teenager thumbing his nose at his dad. It was stupid, I was stupid. Once it was no longer a consideration, I could finally focus on what made me happy. And these last few months, in that house, working on my art, doing product illustrations, working on—” He stopped abruptly. He wasn’t quite ready to tell anyone about the graphic novel yet. Not even Beth. “I’ve been happy. I am happy. I miss my family but I’m in a good space.”
“Gideon.” His name was a whisper and she reached across the table to rest her hand on top of his. “That’s all that really matters. Being happy. Maybe if they see how genuinely content you are with your life, they’ll start to understand that this is what’s best for you.”
“You’re giving them a lot of credit, thinking they want what’s best for me and not for them.”
“Of course, they want what’s best for you. They just think they know better than you do, that’s all.”
“You’re really are such an intolerable little know-it-all.” The familiar words were swathed in affection and warmth and if her bright smile was anything to go by, she heard it and understood that it wasn’t an insult. Not this time. This time it was the highest compliment he could ever pay her.