Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I liked my men like I liked my coffee. Not hot enough to hurt me.
And this one’s confident walk struck me as exactly that—hot and hurtful.
CHAPTER 2
Shut your cakehole, shit lips.
-Coffey to Sienna
COFFEY
“What are you laughing about?” I asked my sister.
I mean, technically, I guess you could laugh while at a funeral—or about to be attending a funeral. It was just one of those things that weren’t done. But my family wasn’t normal. Never had been, never would be.
My sister, who was my one and only living blood family member left, looked at me like I’d ruined her fun.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked curiously.
No. Probably not.
But anything that made her laugh would probably put me in a better mood.
“Yes,” I said, knowing I wasn’t about to like what was going to come out of her mouth, yet saying it anyway.
“Okay, well, you know how Bob has that skin infection on his hand?” she asked.
Bob was her husband of three years. Bob was in the military and had been here for the last eight days while on leave, leading up to my father’s funeral. However, some shit had hit the fan and he’d had to go back to the base so he could take care of business.
“Yes,” I answered carefully.
I couldn’t see what there was about an infection on his hand that would make her laugh, but I was willing to bite. Anything not to think about what was currently going on outside.
She turned her gaze away from the window where we could see my dad’s body being loaded into the back of the hearse. Her eyes were smiling, though despite that, I could still see the exhaustion on her face.
“Well, last night, when we were having sex, I made him wear a sock on his hand.” She paused, waiting for the grimace that had graced my face at the mention of her and sex. I happily obliged her with the grimace. After she flashed me a quick grin, she said, “Well, he started talking in this really weird voice while we were doing it. Then he would move his hand and pantomime what he was saying, and let’s just finish by saying it was the kinkiest sock puppet show I’ve ever witnessed.”
I knew I’d regret it. I knew it, and I should’ve been quiet as hell and not said I wanted to hear why she was laughing, yet I didn’t. And now, I would be traumatized for the rest of my life and never be able to watch a puppet show again without thinking about it.
“I can’t believe you just told me that,” I grumbled.
“Well, you asked, stupid,” she huffed out.
“I did,” I confirmed. “But next time I say I want to know why you’re laughing, and it’s even remotely about yours and Bob’s sex life, I don’t want to know. So don’t tell me.”
She grinned wickedly before turning back to look outside. “He’s in.”
He was. I’d seen that from past her head as I’d kept my eyes outside, despite not wanting to see.
My dad, after a three-month battle with colon cancer, had passed away eight days ago.
For those eight days, I’d done nothing but think about what life would be like without him.
It was still so surreal to me that I couldn’t pick up my phone and ask him what he thought of the ball game the night before or whether or not he wanted to hit up a new breakfast place with me.
I’d been to see his body every night since he’d passed.
Today, after the funeral, we’d be cremating him so we could carry him with us on our travels.
Sienna, to wherever the Army was sending them next, and me to wherever I might go next.
Whether it be here, Heartsway, South Carolina, or anywhere.
“I know,” I grumbled.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
No.
Not only would we be saying goodbye to our best friend, but we’d be seeing our mother and, more than likely, my ex-wife. Carron never missed a chance to make a scene and make anything and everything about her.
Luckily, this would be an outside service, so there were no structures that would allow the sound to bounce off them. Carron shrieked like a falcon when she cried, and my mom was almost no better.
I still didn’t know how the hell I’d managed to marry a person exactly like my mom.
Carron, at first, had been my best friend. She’d been who I thought was my endgame.
Then she’d turned from someone I could confide in to someone that I couldn’t stand sharing anything with. I’d gone from telling her about my day and what I wanted out of life to barely wanting to talk to her about the weather.
“I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” I said as the car started to move, following behind my dad.