Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“An Uber? Where’s your car?”
I take no offense that he’s discombobulated right now. Frankly, I’d be shattered pieces of hysteria if I were him.
“At the entrance to the Happy Trail, actually. The start of my sheep-ish adventure.” My anecdote should be funny, but nothing feels funny right now.
“I’ll take you to it.”
“No, Bennett. It’s okay, really. I’ll find a way home. Take a cab or an Uber or something. You can stay with Summer, and—”
“I’m not letting you ride all the way home from Burlington with some stranger in a cab, Norah. Summer’s sleeping, and with the meds they gave her, the doctors think she will be for a while. I’ll take you to your car and then come back.”
I nod instead of fighting it. For just tonight, I refuse to be a pain in this man’s ass.
After letting the nurse know he’s leaving and stopping in to give Summer one last kiss—from each of us—we weave our way through the hospital to the parking garage, climb into his truck, and head off for Red Bridge in comfortable silence.
It’s not until we’re completely out of Burlington that Bennett says something that renders me speechless. “I was happy you were there today. For Summer.”
Wow. Just…wow. My heart races, and it takes me a hot minute to get my bearings. I have so many questions I want to ask him about Summer and her well-being and how often emergent situations like that happen. But I know now isn’t the right time.
So, I simply go with honesty when I get my tongue to work. “I was happy I was there, too.”
Besides Charlie and the other nurses who help take care of Summer, Bennett is usually doing it alone. Being a single parent is hard enough, but being a single parent with a daughter as sick as Summer? I can’t even imagine. I hate that that’s his reality.
“And I owe you an apology,” he declares, and I look toward him while trying to hide the disbelief that wants to make itself known on my face. “I was out of line on Friday night, and I owe you an apology for it. I’m sorry.”
First, he thanks me, and now he’s apologizing. What in the hell has gotten into Bennett Bishop tonight?
“I appreciate that, Bennett, I really do, but I wouldn’t say Friday night showcased my best self. I wasn’t exactly in line either,” I admit. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”
“I deserved it,” he admits, and half of his mouth quirks up. “Well, at least the first one. The second might’ve been a little overkill.”
“Yeah.” I cringe, and one puff of humor escapes my nose. “I’d have to agree with you on that.”
“How late did you end up staying at the bar and hanging out with that farmer?”
“Who? Tad?” I nearly laugh. “Lord, I thought I was chatty, but that man just about talked my ear off. And I didn’t stay long. Left right after you did, actually.”
“You’re not interested in him?” he questions then, almost reshaping my spine, it snaps so straight.
“Um, no.” This time, I do laugh. “I mean, Josie was right to call him hot and all, but no, I am not interested in him. Plus, I’ve got a whole cargo ship of relationship drama. I don’t need to be jumping into anything right now.”
“Ah, yes. Thomas Conrad Michael King III. How in the hell did you end up with a pretentious prick like him anyway?”
Bennett takes the ramp onto the bypass around the only small town between us and Red Bridge, and I shuffle in my seat to find the words.
“Put simply? My mother. She’s been orchestrating every detail of my life since the day my dad died. And Thomas was a means to an end. The success, the wealth, being in the right circle of people.”
“And what? You just woke up one day and got tired of the whole deal?”
I shake my head as tears sting my eyes, my whole body feeling instantly like I’m standing at the bathroom sink of St. Patrick’s Cathedral all over again. “No. I woke up on my wedding day and got ready to marry the man I thought I loved. And then a woman handed me a letter that changed everything.”
“A letter?”
The truth will set you free.
“A letter. Turns out, Thomas Conrad Michael King III isn’t just a self-important asshole. He’s way, way worse. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the information ever since.”
When I realize I’ve just told him more than I’ve told my own sister, I wait for the shock to fill my gut. But it never comes. For some reason, it just feels right. It feels like I can trust him.
“Is it illegal?” Bennett asks, eyeing me out of his periphery. “Because if it is, you should turn that shit over to the cops. Let him rot.”