Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“Nice place,” I say, breaking the silence that’s dominated the last few blocks.
She nods, then gives me a look with her brows knit tight.
“This seemed like a better idea when we were still in North Dakota.”
“We’re just here to get in, get your stuff, and visit with your folks a little...if they’ll have it.” Taking her hand, I give it a fierce squeeze. “I’ll be at your side the whole time, whatever happens.”
“I guess.” She stretches over the console to give me a quick kiss. “Thanks for having my back. You have no idea how much it helps.”
I catch her lips with a growl and give her a long, solid kiss, intent on dragging her mind off what’s waiting.
“If you change your mind about staying here, we can always rent a hotel or AirBnB. Just say the word.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “If I’m in charge of my own life now, this is where it starts.”
I give her a wink. “You’ve got this, Peach. Let’s rock and roll.”
A moment later, we do exactly that.
Her folks have the wide front door with the stained glass already open and waiting.
As we walk up the steps, Gloria Redson-Riddle-Coffey gives new meaning to the term ice queen. Her attitude could send a penguin chasing after a space heater.
She kisses the air beside both of Tory’s cheeks but doesn’t even look my way with more than a passing blink.
“Faulkner,” she says with a terse nod.
“Ma’am.” Screw it, I give it right back, barely dipping my chin.
We might be guests here, walking on the world’s thinnest eggshells, but I’ll be damned if I look like a spineless pushover for the sake of politeness.
A tall man walks out of the door behind Gloria.
“Hello, sweetheart!” He gives Tory a solid bear hug before extending his hand to me. “Quinn, I’m John Coffey. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.”
Gloria huffs out an offended breath as John and I shake hands. Noting the way his eyes twinkle, much like Granny Coffey’s, I say, “If those good things are all from your mother, you might want to take ’em with a grain of salt. The woman loves to embellish.”
He lets out a laugh and slaps my back. “You know my mother well. Come on in. I have steaks ready to grill and cold beer.”
“Sounds great,” I say, laying a hand on Tory’s back.
Her old man isn’t quite what I expected.
He has a pulse, for one, and a smile that seems genuine.
It’s hard to see the money grubber who spent his whole life burying his small-town roots to keep his woman happy, but first looks can be deceiving.
Tory smiles up at me. I give her another wink, letting her know we’re in this together.
A short time later, John and I are on a huge tiered deck out back. Alone because Gloria insisted she needed to talk to Tory—girl to girl.
John lights the grill, then sits down on one of the cushioned deck chairs.
“You know, this is the day I’ve dreaded for years,” he says with a sigh.
“Why’s that?” I ask, assuming he’s referring to Tory moving out.
“Because I have to come to grips with the fact that I’m trusting another man to take care of my little girl for the rest of her life.”
Shit.
What?
“Come again?” I blink at him in genuine surprise.
He smiles, almost a little sadly, his eyes drifting over to the warming grill.
“I’m not gonna lie. Gloria’s fit to be tied with all this—Tory walking out on her old life, old career, old boyfriend.” He winces when he says the last word and leans toward me, lowering his voice. “I never liked the guy.”
I nod, glad there’s something we can agree on.
“Anyhow, I heard about what happened back in Dallas with you and that bust. Tory told me plenty over the phone, how you came to her rescue. Maybe something you had experience with long before getting mixed up with that Pickett trouble, if I remember what she used to say about those summers in North Dakota.” He winks at me. “That’s why I can’t share my wife’s hesitation. Every version of the story I heard from Mama, Dean, and Tory goes slightly different, but they all agree on one thing—you’d die for my daughter.”
“I would.” I look at him, wondering where this is going.
“Well, any guy who’d put his life on the line for my Tory, who loves her that much, isn’t a man worth second guessing,” he says, meeting my gaze. “You’ve earned my respect, Quinn, and an honest shot at keeping her happy.”
I nod, understanding this must be difficult for him, caught between his wife’s attitude and his own heart. “I’d never do anything to hurt Tory. I’ll protect her with my life.”
“Glad to hear it.” He takes a drink off his beer, then says, “What I want to know, Quinn, is if you’ll live for her, too?”