Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I frowned, thinking about my interaction with Trev today. He hadn’t seemed like someone from a powerful family. He was more self-absorbed than anything.
“Garrett Hughes, Trev’s dad, is someone you keep on your good side. You don’t want to make an enemy of him. My dad respects that, and we’ve always gotten along with them just fine.”
As the shade from the trees broke, I was sure I gasped at the view of the house—no, that wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. “Whoa,” I whispered.
“Insane, isn’t it?” Saxon said beside me.
I managed to nod. The place had more square footage than the low-income apartment complex I had lived in the past ten years. Why would any family need so much space? How many kids were there?
“Please tell me Trev has nineteen other brothers and sisters, and that is the reason they need this house.”
Saxon let out a bark of laughter. “Uh, no. Trev has one older brother. Different mother though. Garrett is currently in search of wife number four. Trev’s stepmom left him a year ago.”
“What happened to his mom?”
Saxon shrugged. “Not sure. I remember her from when Trev and I were younger, but not much. She was rarely around, and the nanny took care of him. One day, she was just gone. We were about four, I guess. Trev didn’t seem to care, but he barely knew her.”
My life hadn’t been easy, and Dad wasn’t always the ideal parent, but he was there for me and Cole. Even on nights he hadn’t made it home or he had drunk too much and I had to go get him out of the bar, he had always been sorry. He would make it up to us.
I felt sad for Trev, and I hadn’t expected to ever feel any sympathy for him.
Saxon parked his truck in front of the house, where a circular drive was filled with other vehicles. Most of them expensive and flashy. There were only two other trucks that looked a lot like Saxon’s. I stepped down out of the truck and walked around the front of it to meet Saxon.
He gave me a crooked grin. “Ready for this?” he asked me.
I stared up at the house, then back at him. “No.”
“Too late.”
I sighed, and he started for the stairs leading to the front doors
“You’ll be fine. Besides, you need to meet some people.”
I disagreed, but said nothing. He rang the doorbell just as I reached the top step. The left door opened almost immediately, and a short, round woman appeared on the other side. The smile that lit her face made her dark eyes twinkle. There was a kindness in her expression as she stepped back so we could enter.
“Hello, Saxon,” she greeted. “You’ve come to join the gathering out back, I suppose.”
I followed Saxon inside, and her gaze finally met mine.
“Oh, aren’t you a pretty thing,” she said to me.
“Ms. Jimmie, this is Maddy. She’s a friend of the family who will be living with us,” Saxon told her. “Maddy, this is Ms. Jimmie. The best biscuit maker in the county, but don’t tell Jo I said that. She’ll never cook for me again.”
I held out my hand toward her. “It’s nice to meet you,” I told her.
She looked down at my hand, then up at Saxon, grinning before reaching out and taking my hand in hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Don’t let that circus out there scare you off.”
“I’ll make sure she survives,” Saxon assured her.
She let go of my hand and waved us on our way. “Go on then. You know how to find it. Follow the sound of bad music and high-pitched squeals,” she told us.
Saxon laughed and looked at me. “This way.”
I started to follow him through the grand entryway, my eyes taking in everything all at once. This house was unreal. They could hold a ball in the foyer alone.
“GARRETT!” a deep male voice boomed, and I jumped. “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY HORSE?” the voice demanded, and then the body it belonged to appeared as he stalked toward us.
He was tall with shoulders and a chest so wide that his black T-shirt stretched tight, leaving no question to the number of muscles beneath, paired with faded jeans that hugged his thighs. His skin was so deeply tanned that he had to live outdoors, and his dark blond hair was tucked behind his ears and covered with a worn cowboy hat. Stubble ran along his firm jawline, and his eyes were the color of the greenest grass. If the expression on his face wasn’t terrifying, he would be beautiful. The boots he was wearing clicked against the marble floor as he stalked past us as if we weren’t there.
“Where the hell is he, Jimmie?” the man asked, his tone slightly softer when he spoke to her.