Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Lincoln grinned from ear to ear. “I’m so happy to hear it, and you might have mentioned it once or twice.” She shot a quick look to Brock before she asked, “So…last night went well, don’t you think?”
I blew on the hot coffee briefly. “I do.”
When Lincoln looked like she wanted to say more, Brock rolled his eyes. “For the love, just ask her.”
My eyes bounced between the two of them. For a moment, I wondered if they’d been watching when the limo dropped me off. That intense moment between me and Hunter was all I could think about last night before sleep finally took hold of me. Had I imagined he was looking at me differently?
I’d felt a strange connection to him when we first met, but I just assumed it was because we were both going into this whole thing with the same goal: to help out the people we loved with the money we’d receive. There was also no denying he was incredibly handsome, and I suspected he found me just as easy to look at. I mean, I’m not stupid; we were attracted to one another, without a doubt…but that was all. Right?
I felt my brows draw down in confusion. He was a friend. A friend who had the softest-looking lips I’d ever seen, and all I wanted to do was—
I shook my head to stop my wandering thoughts.
But last night…last night I’d let my eyes drift down to his mouth, and for half of a second, I’d wanted him to kiss me. It was just my imagination that his eyes darkened in the light of the porch lamp. Though, he did lick his lips—I don’t think he even realized it—then…
Then our eyes met. And something happened.
Had Lincoln seen that entire exchange?
“What did you think about Sarriah?” Lincoln asked.
Blinking myself back to reality, I asked, “Sarriah?”
“Yes. Is there any kind of rule that says the mother can’t warn her son off from…from…”
My brows lifted as I waited for her to go on.
Lincoln cleared her throat. “From women such as Sarriah?”
Laughing before I took a sip of coffee, I tried to think of something to say in the short amount of time I had before I suspected she’d ask if I felt the same way about the woman. “My thinking is, Hunter already knows what Sarriah’s all about. I’m guessing she won’t be on the show for long, but isn’t it a mother’s right to interject her thoughts on whom her son dates.”
Lincoln grinned and winked at me before she asked, “How are the dates picked?”
“Randomly. I’m the one who draws the names,” I said as Brock placed a plate in front of me—and I glanced at him in surprise.
Brock had quickly learned my favorite breakfast. Two slices of toast—one with bananas and cinnamon, the other with avocado. My heart warmed further as he placed a glass of orange juice in front of me.
“You remembered what I like for breakfast?” I asked as I stared at the plate, before glancing up and catching him smiling the very smile both his sons had inherited. He was an older version of Blayze and Hunter. His dark hair was sprinkled with a bit of gray, but those brilliant blue eyes were the same. Hunter seemed to favor his mother a bit more than Blayze, and she was stunningly beautiful in her own right. My favorite part of her were the laugh lines at the corner of her eyes. To me, that meant she smiled a lot and lived a happy life.
“With all the kids out of the house, and it being an empty nest at the moment, it’s nice to have someone here to spoil,” Brock said, as he set another plate in front of his wife, then leaned down and kissed Lincoln on the cheek.
I couldn’t help but blush and look back at my breakfast. Someday I prayed I’d find a man who looked at me the same way Brock looked at Lincoln. Even after so many years of being married, you could practically feel the love bouncing between the two of them.
“Kipton? What’s that smile about?” Lincoln asked.
Clearing my throat, I dipped my head farther so they wouldn’t see the embarrassed look on my face. “I’m sorry,” I replied as I picked up a fork and started playing with my avocado toast. “I wasn’t…I mean…” I shrugged. “It’s just…” My voice trailed off.
“It’s just what?” Lincoln asked softly.
When I lifted my head, they were both watching me closely, concern in their eyes—and the strangest feeling hit my chest. I loved my parents. I knew they weren’t my biological parents, but I loved them fiercely. And I knew they loved me. But in that moment, watching Brock and Lincoln, I felt something missing. Something big.
I wasn’t sure what it was, but maybe, deep down, subconsciously, I missed the biological parents I didn’t remember. Or maybe I longed for…for…