Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Dammit. I’m already falling in love with him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dex
Outside, the cool air slaps me in the face. Maybe it’s too cold for an outdoor activity today? Nah, it’ll be warmer downstate. Hopefully.
We stop at the truck and I open the passenger-side door.
Emily leans up on her tiptoes. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.
“For?”
Her eyes seem to search my face, like she can’t put her thoughts into words. “You seem to understand…my situation.” She tilts her head toward the house. “Thanks for giving her someone nearby to call. Just in case. I…I worry a lot.”
“Hey.” I rest my hand on her shoulder. “I get it. We don’t have to go far if you’re not comfortable. We can do something more local.”
“No. It’s not that far. Like you said, an hour.” A quick smile flickers over her glossy pink lips. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“So have I.” Every second I’ve been away from her has left me craving her more and more.
I help her into the truck, then jog to the driver’s side.
“This is nice.” She runs her hand over the carbon fiber dashboard.
“Thanks.” I slant a look her way. “I prefer two wheels but four gets the job done sometimes, too.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Trying to include Libby, I mean.”
The wobble in her voice seems like she’s close to crying.
My hand hesitates over the ignition. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“What? Yes.” She flashes a quick smile, then reaches over, brushing her hand over my leg. “I’m more than okay. I’m with you.”
What’s that warmth sliding through my chest? Affection?
I clear my throat and start the truck. “Good.”
Emily
As we drive away from the house, Dex’s gaze sweeps over the yard and driveway. “A lot of house to take care of.”
“Tell me about it.” I sigh. “I’ll probably sell it after Libby leaves for college. But after everything…well, I want her to have a stable home.”
“I can understand that. You said it was your aunt’s house? So you didn’t grow up here?”
“No, but my dad and his sister were close. We spent all our holidays here when I was a kid.” I smile fondly as warm memories return. “We moved a lot when I was little. So, Aunt Kimmie’s place was always a constant.”
“Was your dad in the military?”
“No.” I swallow hard. “My parents were high school sweethearts. First love. All that. Accidentally got knocked up their senior year. I was the oops baby that derailed their futures.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Libby was the kid they planned for and were excited about.”
Wow, I’ve never been able to express those feelings to anyone before.
Dex is silent.
Shit. Why’d I have to expose emotional scars within the first twenty minutes of our date?
His hands remain so tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, his knuckles are white.
“Sorry, was that too much info?” I shift my gaze to my pants, focusing on a stubborn piece of lint that just won’t come off no matter how hard I pluck at it.
“No.” He clears his throat. “I married my first…my high school—”
“Wait, you’re married?” My heart thuds. Why am I just learning this now?
“No,” he says in a dull voice. “She died years ago.”
“Oh. Jesus. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” How is it possible this keeps getting worse and worse? I made it sound like getting married young was the worst thing in the world. Probably offended him. I won’t be surprised if he turns this thing around and drops me off at the curb.
“Sorry. It just hit a little close.” He glances over. “Continue. I’m sure you didn’t derail their lives.”
So many follow-up questions I’m burning to ask. But it feels like he just slammed the lid closed on the subject of his marriage. And I’ve already stuck my foot in my mouth; I’d rather not eat my entire leg.
“That’s how they made me feel. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” I say quietly. “They wanted Libby so bad. Were so excited about her.” I let out a sad snort. “At least I was old enough to be the perfect built-in babysitter.”
“So you were taking care of Libby long before your parents died?” he asks.
“I didn’t mind,” I say quickly, hating to sound like I’m complaining. “I loved her the second I saw her.”
“I bet she was a cute kid.”
“Oh yeah.” My lips curve at the memory of the first time I held her. “The cutest. I didn’t resent her until I was a teenager.”
“Why’s that? I’d think you’d be even more protective of her.”
“I was,” I say slowly. “But my mom made me take Libby everywhere. If I wanted to hang with my friends, I had to take Libby. I guess she thought having to look after my sister would keep me out of trouble.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch him frowning. “Depending on what kind of teenager you were, that could’ve been dangerous for your sister.”