Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I’ll go to bed when Lily does if that’s what it takes,” he promised. “I’ll show you, I swear.”
“And if you do, Dad and I will increase our support,” Ash answered. “Whether it’s investing in your game or giving you fewer chores—or both. Up to you. Then, in six months or a year, we can discuss college. It’s too soon for us to know at this point.”
Dylan acted as if we’d just given him the keys to the castle, so I supposed that was a good sign. He was ready to work for his dream.
When the conversation was over, he even hugged us. Voluntarily. He had a cute grin on his face, and he planned on heading back to the old house just to grab his golf clubs. He wanted to go to the driving range for a couple hours.
We walked him to the door.
“Do you have money for tokens?” Ash asked.
“I mean…” The boy smirked.
Ash snorted and pulled out his phone. “I’ll send you twenty, and you better not blow it on girls and dope.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“I’ll try,” Dylan laughed. “Thanks, Dads. Really.”
“You’re welcome.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
He headed off with a two-finger wave and put on his Titleist cap again.
We stayed there in the doorway for a moment.
As excited as I was for the evening’s festivities, I was so comfortable in the knowledge that Ash and I would always feel most at home right here, being parents, taking care of our family, and doing our own thing.
“He’s gonna need a couple of years to get to where he needs to be if he wants to go pro,” Ash said pensively. “You know what that means?”
“What?”
He smiled. “He’s not movin’ anywhere for college. He’ll be right here.”
I smiled back. Knowing him, he was already mentally fixing up the studio above the garage.
“We’ll make that another rule,” I said. “He’s not allowed to skip family vacations. We can find golf courses along the way if he needs to train, but he’s coming with us.”
“God, I fucking love you.”
I let out a laugh and kissed him. “I love you too.”
CHAPTER 8
Ash Riley
“Look at the house,” Nate sighed.
I glanced up from the screen. Yeah. The whole downstairs glowed in the dark with the prank.
Soon, soon, soon, soon, soon…
We’d see about that, bratty fucks.
“All right, status update from the family for today,” I said, returning to Juliana’s text on Nate’s phone. “Hallie’s cramps are over, which we already knew, Lily doesn’t understand why she can’t pack Paws into one of the moving boxes, Mikey’s thrilled with his bike—they even washed it, he and Keith—the movie was all right, dinner was great, and now they’re changing into pajamas to watch more movies on the couch.”
“I can actually picture Lily arguing that if we pack Paws into a moving box, we won’t accidentally leave him behind.”
I laughed. Yeah, I could see that too.
I turned the sound off on my phone and tucked it into my suit jacket. If there was an emergency at home, Juliana or Keith would call Nate’s phone, but I was expecting instructions from Reese.
“Let’s get this ball rollin’, baby.” I climbed out and snatched up my fancy Venetian mask from the dash.
I’d found mine for cheap. Black and gold with minimal bling. I’d even convinced Nathan that we were better off with our three-piece suits rather than actual tuxedos.
We were handsome as all fuck.
His mask was black and dark green, so he’d managed to match the green to his shirt. I definitely didn’t own a gold shirt, so I was making do with black and charcoal.
“Mask on, mask off…?”
He smirked and put his on. “Everyone else is wearing theirs.”
I glanced toward the members standing on the porch. All right, mask on.
The doors had opened about twenty minutes ago, so there should be a crowd inside. James’s truck was here.
A big sign hung off the porch, welcoming us to the sixth annual masquerade ball at Mclean.
“Did you hear about next month’s Game?” he asked, slipping his hand into mine.
I threaded our fingers together. “No…?”
“It’s not confirmed yet, but there’s a rumor that says it’s going to be a murder mystery event.”
Huh. That sounded kind of fun.
“You should join with Jordan,” he encouraged. “I could join with James.”
I side-eyed him. “You know James listens to a whole bunch of true crime podcasts, don’t you?”
That bastard. He was trying to hide his smugness.
“Jordan may have mentioned it,” he replied casually.
But I wasn’t buying it.
“You’re on, baby,” I huffed. “And lemme say this right now. Any time you and I compete against each other, there’s gonna be a bet. For instance, if there’s a murder mystery theme and Jordan and I go up against you and James, you will rub my feet every night during our next road trip, and wake me up with a blow job when we’re at that luxury retreat.”