Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, but he keeps going.
“The will was set, and I don’t have the power to change it. I tried to get Breezy to stay on and run them. But she didn’t want to hear it. Which, I understand, of course. It’s a real kick in the nuts what my dad did. After all she’s done for years and years.” He shakes his head. “But I’m not a monster. I’m working with a lawyer to figure out what the hell I’m allowed to even do. If I give her the galleries—the stake my dad gave me in the will—she’ll owe fucking millions and millions in taxes. I don’t even know if she’d be able to swing it. I don’t know if she’d be able to pay and keep them afloat. Not without filing for fucking bankruptcy at first, that is. And that’s even if she stopped being stubborn and took the twenty mill my father gifted her in his will.” He lets out a long exhale. “I’m trying to figure the shit out. But it’s not easy. And the galleries are failing because Breezy is the backbone. I know that. She knows that. My fucking dad knew that. I just wish she’d come back to New York and run the galleries until we can figure out what can be done. Do what she’s been doing and just up her salary to compensate in the meantime, you know?”
My head is bombarded with all the shit he just said, and all I can do is shake my head. “This isn’t how Breezy tells it.”
“Yeah. I know.” He snorts, but there’s no amusement. Only frustration. “Because no one will let me stick around long enough to explain it. At least not without getting punched in the fucking face a couple of times.”
I wince slightly, stretching my sore hand. “Sorry about that.”
He blows out a breath. “Whatever. It’s not like I haven’t deserved it at one point or another.”
“What about Bennett?” I find myself asking, even though I don’t really know why. “Why’s he hate you so much?”
“I… Well, I slept with his girlfriend once.” His head bounces back and forth. “A few times.”
I let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s fucked.”
“Yeah, I know. It was a real asshole thing to do.”
I eye him knowingly. “I’d say it makes you a little more than an asshole, brother.”
“I get it. But I did it to break them up, and I can’t complain about the results in that aspect. She was a snake. She would have latched on to him until she ruined his life, and he didn’t need that shit at the time. He was in a real bad place, mostly because our father was an overbearing, controlling dick.” He takes a swig of his drink. “Now, Norah, she’s the kind of amazing woman he actually deserves.”
The way he talks about Bennett…is not what I expected. I honestly thought he’d ramble on about what an asshole his brother is.
But confessing to the shady shit he’s done, and even going so far as saying Bennett deserves an amazing wife like Norah? A plot twist, that’s for damn sure.
“So, from what you’re telling me here, you’re maybe not as much of an asshole as I originally thought. And you quite possibly need to work on your delivery,” I add through a shocked laugh. “Maybe you should consider some flowers or chocolates or some shit when you’re breaking hard news. Maybe you should drop the egotistical-prick act and offer a buffer of kindness so you have some time to explain your side of things. You can’t bulldoze people with hard news, you know?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
I don’t know why I’m even offering advice to this guy, but there’s just something in the way he’s admitting his bullshit out loud that has me warming up to him a little. I’m not thawed out and melted down completely, but I’m not as icy as I was.
“Even a coffee delivery tomorrow morning—when you undoubtedly plan to show up to your brother’s house again, begging to be let in—wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I suggest. “I’ve not seen anyone in Red Bridge waste a good cup of CAFFEINE coffee before. So you’d have to at least set it down to get hit.” I shrug. “But hey, you do you.”
“Yeah,” Logan says, considering me a little more closely. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. Thanks.”
I lift my shoulders and take the last pull from my soda, rubbing at the beading water on the glass.
“And what about you?” Logan asks. “What’s your deal? Why’s Bennett so quick to give you shit? He seemed real fucking pissed over the idea of you and Breezy being a thing.”
I lick my teeth, considering how much I’m willing to say. “I guess most people in town don’t take the sheep farmer too seriously.”