Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Your secret is safe with me. You good, sweetheart?” I can’t help it; something pulls at me to at least ask her in case it’s worse than she’s letting on.
“I’m okay. Mom deserves a man like you, Nix. She does everything, never complains. I see how tired she is, and boys, well, boys are stupid, except you. You’re the best there is.” I press a kiss to the side of her head.
“Boys are most assuredly stupid. We’ll get back to that when you need an ear to listen. Your mom deserves it all, and she’ll get it. Now, let’s go see what we can get our hands on. I’m starving. Your mom is living on caffeine, so you know she’s devouring everything in sight, and if we want any food, we better get our asses moving.” I walk her toward the kitchen.
“Phoenix Stephen Drakos, did you just say a word that shouldn’t be said around a young lady? I’m going to put soap in your mouth.” Mom’s got ears like a hawk.
“Uh-oh, you’re in trouble now, Nix. You got full-named. That spells trouble, so you’re on your own.” Rory leaves my side, moving to where her mom is standing at the counter, stuffing food in her mouth as fast as she can. I should have made Leigh some breakfast while she was showering. Next time, I’ll be sure to do that.
“Traitor,” I tease Rory, then walk to my mother to say hello.
“Hey, Mom.” I bend down to kiss her cheek as we hug. She’s got her lips next to my ear, whispering to me low so only the two of us can hear, and I know that’s the case. Leigh, and Rory, along with Emmy, are basically deaf compared to Mom and me.
“My boy, you’ve got a great treasure in front of you. Make this official. I want my girls to have the love of a real man. I admired what you did years ago. Now is the time. They’re the happiest they’ve ever been, and I know it has everything to do with you.” I close my eyes. She’s right. Of course, she is. There’s no denying it.
“Not messing around, not ever again.” It’s not the time to go more in depth, not with everyone milling around. Anyone could sneak up on our conversation.
“Good. You cuss in front of my granddaughters again, I’m going to smack you.” Mom pats my cheek, winking as she does.
“I thought you were going to put soap in my mouth?” I tease her as I pull away, heading to where the girls are currently scarfing down cheese, olives, meats, and whatever they can before Emmy and my dad walk in.
“You going to save any for me, or is this a free for all?” Leigh doesn’t respond, too busy chewing her food.
“Nix, we’re women. Food is life. And you never mess with a woman when she’s eating.” I go to grab an olive. Rory does a fake growl, Leigh snorts, and I chuckle.
“Dinner’s ready. The three of you get out of the appetizer, or you’ll ruin my meal. Rory requested dinner last time she was here, so it’s her turn. Nix, get the casserole out of the oven. Adonis, help the girls set the table.” Mom claps her hands together, and we do her bidding, all of us prepared to do anything when it comes to one of her delicious dinners, even if we’re being prodded like cattle to do what she says.
17
ROSALEIGH
“Pick up, please pick up.” I’m calling my best friend, my sister in a way that is thicker than blood. The phone keeps ringing, once, twice, three times, then another. I’m worried she’s working on a Sunday night. Ophelia calls me a workaholic. Hello, pot, meet kettle. It rings yet another time. One more ring, and it’ll go to voicemail. I’m unsure of who I’ll talk to if she doesn’t answer, more than likely myself. We reverted to our usual Nix and Leigh selves once the girls were in the truck, meaning no hand holding, the palm of his hand was no longer holding the inside of my thigh, and talking freely was out of the question, too, not that it lasted long. A quick five-minute trip to get Emmy made it impossible to talk to him about how to navigate this relationship we agreed on. Alright, he claimed me. It was the claiming of a man you’d read about in one of the novels who has a long-haired hero, shirtless, overly muscled on its cover, holding a woman tightly to his body.
“Ophelia Drakos, it’s about damn time you answered. I’m having an emergency over here. What were you doing, woman?” I demand once she picks up the phone, not giving her a chance to say hello.
“Give a woman a break, will you? I was unlocking the door, trying to get inside the freaking house.” She blows out a puff of air into the phone. I laugh, envisioning Fif with her oversized bag, phone buried at the bottom, keys probably in a spot she didn’t remember putting it, cussing in every imaginable language she can.