Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Our home.
Once the job was done and everything was cleaned up, we said our goodbyes, and everyone started packing up. As soon as the girls were gone, I slipped inside for a quick shower. When I got out, the house was quiet. I glanced out the window and smiled when I saw the newly completed deck. They’d actually finished it, and they’d done it without killing one another.
I didn’t see any sign of Luke, so I decided to use the opportunity to dress and dry my hair. I walked across the bedroom and over to the dresser Luke had cleared out for me when we were going back and forth. Now, my things filled nearly half the space. Makeup and brushes stood in a ceramic cup beside his shaving cream and deodorant, and my curling iron and straightener were coiled up beside the outlet next to the mirror, crowding his aftershave.
It wasn’t perfect, but he never complained.
If anything, he seemed to welcome it.
Once I’d put on my comfy shorts and T-shirt, I went back to the bathroom and started working on my hair. I’d just started to brush through the tangles when the door crept open, and Luke’s reflection appeared in the mirror. He motioned his head toward the counter as he said, “All this stuff yours?”
“Most of it.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at the makeup scattered across the counter before looking over at the closet, and then, back to me. “It fits pretty good.”
“It does.”
He was quiet for a second, then he casually announced, “You know, you stay here most nights anyway.”
I stilled and cocked my brow. “Are you trying to say something?”
“Yeah, but I’m not doing a good job of it.” He didn’t try to joke his way out of it. Instead, he dropped his hands to my waist and turned me to face him. “Move in with me… for real.”
No hesitation. No big speech or spiel. Just Luke being Luke.
My heart swelled, and I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t expected. This was what I was hoping for, and I hadn’t even realized how much. I smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
Relief flickered across his face before he pulled me closer. His mouth immediately found mine, and he kissed me in that way he did that made everything else fall away. My hands slid up his chest as he held me against him, steady and safe.
When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Funny how the things that started out all wrong somehow lead us exactly where we were meant to be.
EPILOGUE
GOOSE
A year Later
“Does he know we’re coming?”
“Nah. I tried calling, but he didn’t answer.”
“What if he’s not home?”
“He’s home,” I answered confidently. “Hell, he’s always home.”
We pulled up into the driveway, and the place looked the same as always. Same patch of dead grass in the front yard and the same beaten down front porch. I didn’t think much about it. Wasn’t like I was expecting it to change. Nothing there ever really did. Not since Mom died.
As soon as I parked, Presley glanced over at me and smiled. “Ready?”
I nodded, grabbed the food from the back seat, and got out. She followed suit, and as soon as she met me at the front of the truck, she slipped her arm through mine. “You think he’s hungry?”
“No telling, but I know I am.”
“Oh, I’m starving.”
“That’s good, because you packed enough food for half the town in here.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Says the woman who threw in four extra potatoes just in case.”
“Well, you never know.”
“I know we don’t need four extra potatoes.”
“Don’t be a party pooper.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
“Well, you can keep the facts to yourself. I’m sure your dad doesn’t want to hear it either.”
Dad hadn’t suddenly turned into a talker, and he sure as hell hadn’t become a socialite, but Presley had made it a point for us to come by when we could. We did the same with her folks, but with Dad it was different. She wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. That was Presley. She was always thinking about others, and I know it meant a lot to my dad.
It certainly meant a lot to me.
We hadn’t even knocked before he’d opened the door and said, “Evening.”
“Hey, Pop.”
Presley stepped over to him and gave him a quick hug. “Hey, there. How are you making it?”
“I’m getting by. Just like always.”
He stepped aside to let us in. House looked the same as always. Same worn-out furniture. Same dark curtains. Same damn recliner that he couldn’t seem to stay out of.
I carried the food into the kitchen while Presley followed Dad into the living room and filled him in on the latest news. It was actually kind of cute. The ol’ man soaked up every word, even when she brought up chick-shit he didn’t give a damn about. I could tell it meant a lot to him that she cared enough to share our life with him.