Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Did Grayson answer when you called?”
She nodded, and Nadia’s anxiety skyrocketed. She’d hung up on him and would have to apologize not only for that, but also for whatever Lynnea had said to him.
“What did you and Grayson talk about?” Nadia tried a different tactic.
“The dance.”
Her heart hit the floor with a thud. Last year, she’d ignored the father-daughter dance. The event had happened so close to Rafe’s passing that there was no way she could’ve had the energy to get Gemma ready or even suggest she attend. Her grandfather easily would’ve taken her, or any of her uncles, but Nadia hadn’t been in any frame of mind to get the ball rolling. So, Gemma had missed it, which had added more heartache and devastation to an already brokenhearted girl.
“At your school?”
Lynnea nodded. She was old enough to go this year, but Nadia hadn’t given it much thought. Reuben had said he would take Gemma, and that was that. She’d never stopped to think that Lynnea would want to go. She supposed that, had Rafe been there, he would’ve taken both girls. She’d assumed Reuben would do the same.
“I’m sure Uncle Reuben is taking you. We just haven’t talked about it.”
“I don’t want to go wif him and Gemma.”
But you would’ve gone with your dad and Gemma.
What was the difference?
“Do you want to go with Uncle Lars? I can call him. Or Kiran?”
Lynnea shook her head.
“What about Grandpa Otto?”
Another shake.
She could ask her father, but she didn’t necessarily want him traveling that far for a two-hour dance. “Honey, is this why you called Grayson?”
Lynnea snuggled impossibly deeper into Nadia’s shoulder, almost as if she was embarrassed. Nadia nudged her and worked to pry Lynnea’s viselike hands off her neck. “I want to see your pretty face,” she told her daughter, who reluctantly let go. “Ah, there’s my beautiful girl. Did you call Grayson because of the dance?”
Lynnea nodded.
“I see. You know he lives by where I grew up, by Grandma and Grandpa. He’s not in Boston.”
“I know,” she said as she fiddled with the blankets on her bed.
“He can’t just stop his life and come here, Lynnea. Besides, he . . .” She trailed off. The last thing he’d said when he left was to call him with whatever the girls needed. Not her, which she’d found odd. It was like he’d singled out the girls for a reason. It could be that he thought they needed their own person for moral support or something. She’d seen how they’d bonded during the tea party, and the girls were incredibly upset when he’d left that night.
“Why do you like Grayson?”
Lynnea shrugged. “He’s warm like Daddy, and they smell the same.”
Nadia hadn’t even noticed if they wore the same cologne, which she found odd, because the cologne Rafe had worn—he’d worn it because she’d bought it for him—was her favorite scent. She’d recognize it anywhere, and yet she couldn’t recall smelling it on Grayson.
“I get that you like Grayson. I like him too—”
“Is he going to be my new daddy?”
Nadia gasped. “Wh-what? No. Why would you say that?”
Lynnea shrugged and once again burrowed into her mother. “He’s just like Daddy,” she mumbled. Lynnea’s tears wet Nadia’s shirt, and she held her daughter tighter. She was having a hard time grasping the notion that the girls thought Grayson was like Rafe. They were nothing alike. Not in looks, mannerisms, or even attitudes. When she’d dated Grayson, he was noncommittal, aloof, and very much “go with the flow,” unless it didn’t suit him. This was what had made it so easy to break things off with him when she’d left for college. She’d been right to do so because that was where she’d met Rafe, who was the opposite of Grayson. Rafe was daring and adventurous, and when he put his mind to something, he worked at it until he’d achieved his goals. Not once had she missed Grayson, and even now, if she didn’t see or hear from him again, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But something told her that he wasn’t going to let that happen, and neither were her children.
“Sweetie.” Nadia rubbed Lynnea’s back. “No one can ever replace your daddy.” As she said the words, it hit her. Lynnea would have very few memories of Rafe—and that gutted Nadia. She inhaled deeply and vowed to always talk about Rafe, even if she ever dated or remarried. Rafe would always be at the forefront. It was the least she could do as his wife and the mother of his children.
Lynnea lifted her head. She had her thumb in her mouth. A habit she’d picked back up after Rafe died but seemed to have stopped on her own. As much as Nadia wanted to tug on her hand, she didn’t. She hated seeing it, but it brought Lynnea comfort, and that was important. “Eber?”