Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“You get to choose where they assign you?” Allie asked.
I shot Gavin a look, and he had the nerve to shrug. “Kind of. My three years are almost done here. We give them a list of our top duty stations and they try to pair us according to the needs of the Coast Guard.”
“Cape Cod is your top, right?” Panic crept into Caroline’s eyes. “And what do you mean try?”
Allie slid her hand to my knee.
“Of course, I’ll put Cape Cod as my top choice—”
Allie tensed and her hand spasmed.
“—but just like the rest of the military, I serve at the needs of the military. My promotion means I’ll be looking to manage my own shop.”
“Okay?” Caroline’s brow furrowed.
“It’s a job title. I don’t just swim. We already have someone who manages the shop here, and if he stays, there won’t be a slot for me. And if they let me stay anyway, it would . . .” Fuck, how did I say this to her?
“It would hold back his career,” Gavin finished, setting his metal mug on the table. “Baby brother’s gotta fly the coop if he wants to keep climbing the ladder.”
Caroline stared, panic leaching into her blue eyes.
Fuck. I had one favor I could call in at the assignments desk, and that look meant I’d probably have to use it to stay.
“Is there a slot for you in Sitka?” Allie asked.
“There might be,” I answered softly.
“It’s what you’ve always wanted.” She stroked her thumb along the outside of my knee and nodded, the corners of her mouth curving. I slid my fingers over Allie’s and we both ate one-handed.
“You can’t go to Alaska.” Caroline shook her head. “What would . . .”
“You do?” Gavin interrupted. “That’s what you’re worried about, right? What you would do if he went and lived his life. You could, I don’t know, take Mom and Dad up on their offer to help, or hire a babysitter like every other working parent in America.”
Oh, shit. “Don’t,” I warned Gavin. “I can fight my own battles.”
Caroline flinched. “Staying near your family is a battle?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said quietly.
“You know the café makes almost nothing with the overhead,” she hissed at Gavin.
“Sell the fucking thing. We all know you hate it.” He gestured at Allie. “Even Allie probably knows you hate it and she only ate there when she was a kid.”
Allie quickly took a drink of her coffee to avoid answering.
“Keep your voice down. Mom and Dad will hear you.” Caroline dug in to her scrambled eggs. “They built it from the ground up and, contrary to popular belief, I love that place. It’s just been harder to run on my own than I thought it would be. I never imagined I’d be doing it without Sean. I know how much you guys do for Juniper and I hate that I have to lean on you.”
“We know,” I said gently, and Gavin backed off.
“Is there anyone else you trust to keep an eye on her?” Allie asked carefully.
“Absolutely not.” Caroline shook her head. “I’ve seen too many crime documentaries.”
Allie cleared her throat. “She’s welcome at our house if you need extra hands.”
“Thank you.” Caroline stiffened. “But we’re not a charity case to take on so you Rousseau girls can feel good about yourselves. And I don’t want a houseful of professional ballerinas distorting her body image or putting ideas into her head that I can’t afford and don’t support.” She cringed, which was the only thing that saved her from me losing my shit. “Respectfully. Sorry, I’ve seen too many of those documentaries too.”
“I understand.” Allie popped a piece of bacon into her mouth, and I squeezed her hand supportively, then glared at Caroline.
She shot me an apologetic look and sagged in her seat.
The rest of breakfast passed in awkward silence, and I kept Allie’s hand in mine the entire time.
“How about you and I do the dishes?” Allie asked me once we were done.
Caroline’s jaw dropped.
“Excellent idea. I’m down for anything that gets you wet,” I teased.
“Excuse us,” Allie said to my siblings as she got up from the table. “I have to go wash his mouth out.”
I happily followed.
“Don’t tire him out,” Gavin called after us. “We’re rope swinging this afternoon!”
“Oh goody,” she muttered.
“I don’t think so,” Allie said as we sat on a blanket near the lakeshore that afternoon, watching Gavin pull the rope swing up the steep embankment at the base of the giant tree. Years had washed away some of the dirt on the lake side of her roots, but she was still standing.
“You’ll love it,” Juniper promised, sitting between Allie’s outstretched legs. Their toenails were the same color of pink. When had that happened?
“How deep is that water?” Allie asked, her fingers deftly braiding Juniper’s hair. “What happens if he smacks into a tree? Or lands on someone? And it’s humid today. What if your hands slip on the rope?”