Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“That you did,” Nina says.
“Well, you see, I was at the local watering hole with my crew after hours, and one of the guys—a new hire—invited his girlfriend to join us. Nice girl, quiet. Didn’t say much, ‘til she asked her boyfriend if they could go home. But he wasn’t ready to go yet. She asked him again a short while later, and he got rough with her. Real rough.”
A chill runs down my back. Lucas clears his throat, his gaze on the tablecloth.
“I stepped in, as any decent man would’ve done, and when the asshole—pardon my language—stumbled off, I offered the girl a ride home. She politely refused, saying it would only make things worse. So, I waited with her until he came stumbling back. I followed them out, at a distance, and when I saw him hit her...” He shakes his head, and I swear I see the vein in his neck bulge and pulse. “I saw red. Before I knew it, I was on the guy with a big chunk of broken concrete in my hand and I was... I would've bashed his skull in if I hadn't heard her screaming.”
Lucas swallows hard, his shoulders hunching somewhat. I feel a strange and sudden urge to wrap my arms around him, which, when I think about it, seems like an odd reaction to him confessing to almost killing a guy. Still, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have punched the asshole myself.
“I plead guilty to second degree battery and served my time,” he says. “It was my first—and my last—offense.”
His gaze flits to my face, and there’s no missing the anxiety in his stare. My heart aches for him, and so do other parts of me, parts that I'm not ready to admit are ignited by his attention.
“Well,” Nina says at last, reaching across the table to lay her hand over his. “That is some story, Lucas. And I'm so grateful that you felt comfortable sharing it with us.”
Lucas nods, shifting uncomfortably beneath my aunt's gaze. Nina has a way of doing that, of seeing straight through people. She slides his cup and saucer toward her, and in one deft motion, flips the cup over, depositing the contents into the saucer. She uprights the cup and begins studying the leaves that have washed up onto the sides. I don't read tea leaves myself, so it just looks like junk to me, but not to Nina.
“Guilt,” Nina says. “A great wave of guilt has carried you through most of this year.” She lifts her gaze to his face. “Perhaps for the crime you committed?”
His Adam's apple bobs. “No, ma'am. I only regret that such a heinous individual is now considered a victim in the eyes of the law, instead of being held accountable for the crimes he committed.”
Lucas’ strong, confident words send a warm shiver down my spine.
“Hmm.” Nina squints at the cup. “Something else, then. Something that's positively tearing you up inside.”
The oven timer beeps. I rise from my chair and say, “Dinner’s ready. Aunt Nina, that means it’s time to stop interrogating the poor man.”
“It’s no problem,” he says kindly.
His warm gaze washes over me. Whatever else Lucas has to feel guilty about doesn’t matter tonight. He’s here, at my table, because I asked him to be. I got scared earlier, started doubting my intuition, as well as the man before me. Vulnerability hasn’t always come easily to me, but I’m trying to be better about risking my heart. It’s what my dad would want. If I hadn’t sent him a birthday card years ago, who knows if we’d have a relationship now?
I head into the kitchen to take the dumplings out of the oven. I plate a few helpings for Lucas and my aunt, and bring the plates back to the table, just in time to hear my aunt say, “Well, I think it’s settled, then.”
“What’s settled?” I set the plates down in front of Lucas and Nina, lingering warily, reluctant to fetch my own plate until I understand precisely what has transpired in the literal minute and a half that I was away from the table.
“Lucas has agreed to help us out by doing the work on the unit next door,” Nina says too casually, “in exchange for room and board.”
Say what?
Lucas looks abashed as he glances up at me. “I don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable with it, Tatum.”
My name sounds delicious coming from his mouth.
“Of course she’s comfortable. We wouldn’t dream of charging you to stay in the unit while you’re fixing it up for us. Now, Tatum, you know how much I adore my reptilian grandson, but I have to draw the line at the dinner table.”
I’m still reeling from the bombshell my aunt just dropped into our laps when she gestures to Marcellus on my shoulder.