Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
The sheriff looks ready to drag Brady off stage. “Put down your megaphone. No weapons in the town square.”
“Fine,” Brady says, like a petulant little child. “I’ll put it down because I have this.”
From his back pocket, he grabs his phone and what looks like a mini speaker, and dramatically swipes a finger across the screen. “I had a feeling about you two. I took an educated guess. Just like I do with stocks every day. And I was right.” He hits play and my daughter’s voice booms through the speaker. “Is it…ask out Fable on a real date?”
I go cold. That’s what Mac said to me earlier when we were making snow angels. In a second, the ice in me changes to fire. Red clouds billow from my eyes. This asshole was snooping on us? He lurked behind my cabins and recorded my private conversation with my daughter?
He skips the part where Mac suggests the various options for dates then cuts to Mac saying, “That would be fab for your first real date.” Then, to Mac saying, “Now go. Make your fake romance real!”
That’s enough. With a wildfire in my veins, I march to the stage and rip his phone out of his hand then hit stop. “She’s a child,” I bite out. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
I take his phone and walk off the stage, swiping fast and methodically, deleting his files, his recordings, and then uninstalling every single app and sending them to the trash. I don’t have his password, so I can’t do a factory reset. But this is enough. He loves his phone, and I hate him.
In the minute or so that took, the town square has exploded into chaos. Charlotte wraps an arm around a worried Fable. Leo marches toward me like he can’t believe I’ve hid this from him. He asks me point blank, “Is this true?”
Before I can answer no, not really, maybe a little, Aunt Bibi beelines for me, cuts off Leo, and asks in a terribly hurt voice, “Did you really do that?”
But I can’t lie anymore. I nod, I did do it. I did it simply to make my very easy life easier. What a weak reason. What a terrible plan. What a horrible idea.
Fable’s mother and Julio scurry over to Charlotte. Leo doesn’t bother waiting for me. He spins to face his bride and shoots her an accusing stare.
Charlotte winces and says, “I swore I wouldn’t tell.”
Leo drags a hand through his hair angrily. Townspeople are whispering, with Aurora saying, “Is the wedding still on?” And Lennox asking, “What happens next?” And the North Pole Nook bartender saying, “Do they still need all the champagne?”
This is all my fault. But I ignore them all. Fable has peeled away from her sister and is rushing over to me, setting a hand on my arm—a hand I hardly deserve. “Go to your daughter,” she urges, and my heart pounds in fear.
I really fucked up by bringing my daughter into this.
At the edge of the square Mac’s standing with my mother, who’s holding her close in her arms. My tough daughter. My chief strategist. A lawyer in the making. But not tonight. When I reach her, a lone tear has slipped down one cheek. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
My heart sinks to the ground. I’ve hurt…everyone.
I pull her into my arms, comforting her, saying, “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
As I hold her close, I spot Bibi across the square. Her arms are crossed, her gaze is fierce, and she’s staring at Fable. I can make out the shape of the words coming out of her mouth, “I’m awfully disappointed.”
Of course she is.
This was bound to happen.
It started with a lie. It can’t end in true love.
45
AS REAL AS SANTA
Wilder
I’m back at the cabins, trying to forget everything for a minute as I say goodnight to Mac, who’s sturdy again.
“I’m fine, Dad. I swear. It was just a moment when I wasn’t tough like you,” she reassures me as she yawns and heads into her bedroom.
My gut sinks. “Have I taught you to be tough all the time?” I ask, my voice wooden.
She shrugs. “Well, you’re the toughest person I know. Nothing hurts you.”
Ouch.
That hurts more than it should because it’s probably true. I’ve been stoic and reserved. But then again, where did being vulnerable get me? Oh, just my daughter being mocked in public by a jackass, my best friend arguing with his bride-to-be, and the whole town thinking I’m a liar.
Because I am.
But I haven’t even dealt with the Bibi aftermath. I tell Mac I love her, and when I leave her room, I head for my aunt’s cabin. I need to deal with that sooner rather than later. My mother’s in the kitchen, busying herself by cleaning the counters. Bibi’s waiting for me on the couch, tapping her toe, her chin held high.