Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I’m intimidated.
My stomach has been upset all day—since last night, really, when Renn said we’d talk after his mother’s dinner. He’s acted normally toward me, more or less. He’s a little on edge. Jumpy. His brows pinch together when he thinks I’m not looking. I’m confident it’s not a health issue like Brock’s, but I don’t know what’s bothering him.
And I hate it.
The unknown screws with my confidence and messes with my heart. I feel my walls going up, readying to protect me from impending doom. I’m aware of this reaction; it’s a weakness. I know I should give Renn the benefit of the doubt, especially because he hasn’t given me a real reason not to.
But pain is pain, and I’m unprepared for the heartbreak he could deliver.
“You look beautiful,” he says, removing his hand to downshift.
We pull onto a circular driveway in front of a three-story home. The sun’s final rays give the home a backdrop of amethyst and ruby. It’s as though Mother Nature feels compelled to contribute to the wealth of this family.
Renn turns off the main drive and around a half wall. On the other side is a line of cars that cost more than the GDP of small nations.
Holy fuck.
“It’s just my family,” he says, warily. “Remember that. These are just my parents and siblings. It’s not a big deal.”
“If these machines are their daily drives, this is a big deal.”
He cuts the engine. “What’s the worst that could happen? Give me your worst-case scenario.”
“I don’t know. I make a fool out of myself?”
He grins. “Impossible. But let’s say you manage it. You’ll still be adorable.”
I smile as he kisses me.
“Now, come on,” he says, opening his door. “The sooner we get this started, the sooner it’s over.”
“Amen.”
I round the front of his car, taking in his good looks. His hair is fixed in his I woke up like this style. He wears dark denim jeans and a checkered button-up that he refused to tuck in. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows.
“Did you keep everything Astrid sent?” he asks, snatching my hand again.
“No. Did you see the price tag on some of those clothes? It’s outrageous.”
He chuckles as we walk to the door. “Did it all fit?”
“That’s not the point.”
“I’m adding this to our talking points for later.”
I roll my eyes. “You can shove your talking points up your ass.”
He chuckles.
“I’m not being funny. I’m scared shitless over here, and …”
I hiccup a breath, refusing to look at him. Fuck. I just made it perfectly clear that I’m afraid of what he will say.
Way to be transparent, Blakely. Not your best move.
He withdraws his hand from the doorknob and turns to me. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
A burst of laughter comes from the other side of the door. My stomach drops, and my palms sweat.
He squares his shoulders to mine. “I had things to take care of—things that I didn’t want to talk about until I found my way through them. Things I didn’t want you to worry about.”
I search his eyes. “That doesn’t help.”
“Blakely, you have to understand—”
“There you are!” The door flies open, and a tall, dark-headed woman stands like a model on the threshold. “We’re waiting on you. Get in here.”
Renn kisses the woman on the cheek and leads me in behind him. My cheeks flush as I take in the ornate furnishings in what’s more of a museum than a home. There’s a bust of someone important, I assume. Large paintings hang proudly on the walls and chandeliers the size of compact cars hang from the ceiling.
I’m out of my league.
“Easy, Mom,” Renn says, stepping to the side. “Blakely, this is my mother, Rory Brewer. Mom, this is my wife, Blakely. Don’t smother her.”
“Darling, hello.” Rory pulls me in for a hug. The medallion attached to her necklace presses sharply into my chest. I try not to wince. “It is so nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Brewer.”
“No. I’m Rory or you can call me Mom.” She smiles brightly. It’s the same smile Renn uses when he’s happy. “You can set your purse right there unless you want to keep it with you. Let’s introduce you to the rest of our brood.”
I hang my purse on the hook Rory indicated and clutch Renn’s hand like a lifeline. We make our way into a massive kitchen. It’s all gray and white marble—the floors, backsplash, and the countertops. Copper pots and pans, which I doubt have ever been used, hang over the middle of the island.
But around the island—that’s the most fascinating part of the scene. By far.
They’re attractive. Stunning. Jaw-droppingly beautiful.
All of them.
“Blakely, this is my family,” Renn says. “That’s my sister, Bianca. She’s a child genius.”
Bianca grins, her perfectly red lips showing off perfectly white teeth. “I’m only a genius compared to these baboons.”