Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Once laced up, Beau slung the duffle over his shoulder. Did he plan to leave? The bravado building inside me tanked. “We gotta get movin’. If I drive all night, I think we can be there before the mornin’. That’ll give me a day to help finish the house before we go to Mobile. Can you make some sandwiches for the ride?”
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked incredulously.
“Probably not. Right now, I need a clear head to drive across a few states. Are you bringin’ these?” His head nodded toward my luggage sitting at the end of the bed. He tossed my weekender over the same shoulder with his bag. He fisted my heavy bookbag in one hand, my garment bag in the other. In the doorframe, he shot a quick look over at me, eyeing me close. “You aren’t goin’ now?”
“I am,” I murmured, searching for patience. “But I’m not happy with the insinuation that I’m not who I’ve tried to be.”
“I didn’t call you a liar,” Beau gently reassured. It mended my tattered dreams together again. “I misunderstood what you meant last night. Then the way he walked into the room seemed overly familiar to me. It rubbed me wrong. I’m sorry.”
Interesting. I wasn’t a fan of him apologizing either.
The open road was waiting. I approached Beau. He stood frozen, watching me.
An electrifying thrill zapped through me as Beau swooped in for a soft kiss on my lips. He wanted me and I certainly wanted him. A significant leap forward. The garment bag came into my line of vision. “Take it. I don’t want it to get wrinkled.”
Mark consideration down on the list of good qualities of my adorable guy. It was happening for us. I mentally crafted Chandler’s eviction notice.
Birmingham, Alabama
“Hey, buddy,” Beau said, heartwarmingly sweet. My guy. His strong rough palm caressed from my forearm to my bicep. “We’re here, Dash.”
The compact travel pillow under my head might be the best purchase I’d ever made. The small fleece blanket may come in second. I drew it up to my chin, settling into the slight recline of the seat. A yawn followed.
Who knew a ten-year-old truck could ride so smoothly with such relaxing seats?
Wait. Smooth didn’t mean still.
My lids flipped open, searching out the front windshield for the time of day. Bad call. Overly bright sunshine assaulted my vision as I pushed up in the seat, righting myself. Apparently, I’d been asleep for hours.
“You snore.”
“I don’t think so.” But how did I know? The relentless sun hit from every angle, no matter which way I turned. I fumbled with the visor to block the blinding light, stealing a glance at my reflection in the dinky mirror.
What I wasn’t was a morning person, and I cared about my appearance. And what I saw ensured my morning’s bad mood.
The growing facial hair couldn’t be helped. I wished I had gotten in the habit of using a handheld shaver. Outside of that, I had a small amount of bed head to contend with. The disheveled style I currently wore took a decent amount of product and time in order to look effortless. I swiftly arranged the wayward strands back in place. “What time is it? And why’s the sun so bright here?”
The answer came with a chuckle.
“Around six. I pulled over a few hours to sleep. We made good time. I didn’t want to get here too early.” A massive yawn interrupted him. “You slept through it all.”
Inspecting my clothing came next. I swiped at the wrinkles until I found it best to stand and left the truck. Well damn, even my best wrinkle-free slacks had creases in them. I did a full circle while in the middle of the street. The neighborhood was older, the homes were smaller, and it wasn’t nearly as cold outside as Dallas.
“Beau.”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Linda Brooks, Beau’s mother, called from the front porch.
In just five and a half years, she’d aged at least a decade. Her vibrance was gone. The sparkle in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by worry lines etched there and at the corners of her mouth. The past had taken its toll on her pretty face. Yet her love for Beau shone through as she started down the few steps, robe on and coffee mug in hand.
The guy holding the rickety screen door open had to be Scott. He and Beau were similar in dress. What Scott and I had in common was that we both openly stared at each other. His look implied curiosity while I had a feeling mine likely mirrored Beau’s with Chandler.
Stop being silly. Scott’s generosity brought Beau to me.
I looped around the truck’s hood, flashing a grin at Beau’s mother.
“Dash, you came.” She met Beau with a side hug then bypassed him, heading my direction. “I was worried when I heard he left to find you, and now you’re here.” She enveloped me in a warm hug. “You haven’t changed a bit.” The embrace lingered as she pulled back, a curious glint in her eye. “Are you and my boy back together?”