Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Oh.” That’s awful and it makes me angry for him. “I’m sorry. What about your mom?”
He shrugs, focusing on the road again. “She’s great, but she was so busy back then. There’s a lot of unwritten rules in a family like ours, social events you’re expected to attend and roles you have to uphold. And Mom did it all. She ran from fire to fire, keeping all of us in line, Dad included, while simultaneously fundraising for this and coordinating for that. I didn’t want to be a burden, so I stayed out of trouble as far as she knew, and out of the way.”
“They don’t know you at all, do they?” I realize. “Don’t know what a sweet, caring, slightly crazy guy you are?” I sound wistful, but he really is a great man and it’s sad he doesn’t show them that side of himself.
He shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips at the way I’m describing him now. “No, only you know that.”
“Lucky me.” I sigh dreamily, meaning to keep that reaction inside for a change, but my mouth lets it fly free anyway. Cole grins fully then and reaches over to take my hand, places a gentle kiss to the back of it, and rests them on the console between us.
I do feel genuinely fortunate to know the real Cole and can’t imagine how his family has been able to ignore him all these years. I can feel his presence almost before he enters a room, like he’s thinking about me so hard that my Spidey senses know it. His intensity, his focus, his care for what he holds dear is a powerful draw, but according to him, his family somehow doesn’t even notice it. How can that be?
Minutes later, we’re driving down a long street with a tall, wrought iron fence on the right. I’m thinking it’s a nature preserve or something with all the trees until Cole turns into a small drive with a gate. There’s nobody here, but with a push of a button on his steering wheel, the gate starts opening to admit us.
“That’s your house?” I blurt out. That’s rude enough, but of course, I keep going with zero filter. “I have no idea what I was expecting, but it sure wasn’t that. I mean, you mentioned your family has money, but this? This isn’t wealthy, it’s Richie Rich riiiich.”
As we drive through the gate, I’m looking left and right, craning my neck to see everything. The house is huge, white, with wide stairs going up to the double front door. In the middle of the parking lot out front—yes, I’m calling it a lot in my head because once you get past being able to park six or seven cars, calling it a driveway really sounds stupid—is a fountain with a naked guy surrounded by arcing sprays of water.
“It’s home,” Cole says simply. Now I can see how easily he could be invisible here. He could go off to another wing of the house, and nobody would give it—or him—a second thought.
Money doesn’t make the man, of that, I’m sure. But I could compile every penny my whole family’s made in the entirety of their life, and we could maybe pay the electric bill one time for a place like this, so though it’s ‘home’ to Cole, it’s hard for me to not be intimidated by this much flash.
“Are you sure I’m dressed okay?” I question, smoothing a palm over my skirt. Cole said the dress code is casual, so I chose a silk camisole tank in emerald that goes great with my hair and a long, flowy skirt that makes me feel feminine and not at all schlumpy like my usual scrubs. My outfit isn’t the issue, but I might be. Because what I’m really asking is ‘am I okay to be here?’
Cole glances my way, reading my reaction in a fraction of a second. Not that I’m hiding it. I know my eyes are wide, my jaw is dropped open, and . . . oops, I’m pointing at the fountain like a tourist in Rome!
“You look gorgeous,” Cole assures me, then adds, “also, if shit goes sideways, I fully expect you to have my back like I had yours with Paisley’s deal.”
I gawk at him in shock, replaying all the ways he superheroed for me, up to and including a fake proposal, and contemplating ways to do that myself. “You want me to propose?” I murmur in confusion.
“I mean you’ll have to tell them that I’m an asshole who blackmailed you into coming,” he corrects with a sly grin. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
And I’m reminded again that he doesn’t let anyone in. Not really.
But he’s learning to with me.
“Your secret’s safe,” I offer, locking my lips and throwing away an imaginary key.