Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Do you know where you want to go?” I asked.
“Nebraska,” she said automatically. “Though wherever will recruit me to play all four years.”
The waiter came back now that Bailey was here. We put in our order and chatted about her future plans while we ate. Bailey nibbled on a salad, Eve had a chicken sandwich, and I got the burger, which everyone had insisted was incredible, hence its placement on the sign. And it was every bit as good as described.
Bailey entertained us the whole meal. She could talk a mile a minute about anything that interested her. Like any teenager, she could shut down just as quickly when bored with a subject. Which appeared to be a long list of things—school, her grades, last year, work, the house, her dad. I’d thought Harley was a handful. Bailey gave her a run for her money.
“So, Nebraska is the dream?” I asked in surprise. I wasn’t sure I’d heard anyone say they wanted to move to Nebraska.
“If they can fill a football stadium for volleyball, I want to go there,” she told me confidently.
The waiter appeared then with the check, and I paid the whole thing before either woman could offer. Bailey shot Eve a look. I recognized it as the twin look that West and I shared. Though I didn’t know Bailey well enough to read it, I got the impression that I must have been doing something right.
We lingered over drinks as the crowd ebbed and flowed around us. Bailey kept trying to convince me to get out onto the dance floor and show off my line dancing moves.
“Come on,” Bailey said, jumping to her feet and grabbing my arm. “I’ll show you how it’s done. Eve would never.”
“You’re right. I would never, and I’ll bet you good money Whitt won’t do it either.”
“Yeah, you couldn’t pay me to get out there.”
Bailey sighed. “Come on, y’all. It’s fun.”
“You go then.”
“Not without you. Come on, Evie.”
Eve shook her head with a laugh, and then suddenly, the expression was gone from her face.
“What?” Bailey asked. She whipped around, and her expression froze, too. “Fuck.”
I glanced over in confusion at their reaction. All I saw was a tall man in a cowboy hat, smiling at Ellen, and what looked like ranch buddies. I didn’t know how else to describe the men who had sauntered inside.
“Dad,” Bailey groaned.
Oh…shit.
22
Eve
The world narrowed to the moment when Dad saw the pair of us together. He was with his golfing buddies. Guys he’d known my whole life. They’d ride horses, barbecue, and attend church together with their wives and children. Dad had paraded us before them for too long. Long enough for me to know each and every one of them was a creeper.
“Sit down, Bails,” I snapped.
The last thing I needed was for them to look at her ass nearly hanging out of her shorts. I didn’t give a fuck what she wore, but I didn’t want forty-year-old men to ogle the teenager.
Bailey didn’t argue for once. She plopped her butt back in the seat and went strangely silent. Whitt’s gaze shifted back to me. I’d told him the bare minimum about Dad, and I’d hoped he’d never meet the man. Because I knew exactly what was coming.
“Well, well, well,” he said with a boisterous laugh, “look at my two beautiful girls.” He left his posse behind and strode toward our booth.
If I could have gotten us out of there before this, then I would have. But there was no out with him, only through.
“Hello,” I said crisply.
“Dad,” Bailey said.
His smile was wide and fake as a snake. Ready to coil and strike at the right second. “This is a nice surprise.”
Neither of us said anything. Then, he caught sight of Whitt, who had been unnaturally still. As if he sensed our discomfort, like a predator at our back. I knew the moment my dad clocked him for exactly who he was.
“This must be the boyfriend,” he said.
Whitt, to his credit, came to his feet—a full head taller than my dad—and held his hand out. “Hello. Mr. Houston, I presume?”
“That’d be me,” he said, shaking his hand, “but you can call me Rick.”
“Whitton Wright.”
“Wright.” He pointed a trigger finger at Whitt. “Like Wright Construction, right? We see your signs all over town.”
“Correct.”
“Hope you’re treating my girls to lunch because you know they can’t afford it.” He laughed, aiming a finger at us, as if it were a joke.
Whitt gave him an appraising look and didn’t deem it fit to respond to that.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” I interjected, wanting nothing more than to put Bailey behind me like a physical shield.
“Here with the boys.” He gestured to the table of his friends. “You remember Ron, Dirk, Mullen—”
He was going to list them all if I didn’t intervene, so I quickly said, “Yes, I remember.”