Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Recently, the Harrington boys have had a tendency to show up to family dinners with surprise guests, and I’ve given every single one of my brothers shit about their rudeness when they did it. I will not make that mistake, so I make a mental note to text Mom that I’m bringing a plus-one. I don’t think she’ll be surprised after the spa day.
“Oh, uh…” Riley stammers. Her eyes are ping-ponging from Grace to me uncertainly. “I don’t want to intrude.”
I hold my hand up. “You’re invited, so it’s not an intrusion. I want you there.” Riley’s eyes flare, and I rush to correct myself. “We want you there.”
Whew, that was a close one.
The truth is, I do want Riley at my side at the family holiday dinner. But saying it that bluntly would definitely bring up questions in my too-smart daughter’s mind, and I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
“Okay, I would love to go to dinner,” Riley answers, her eyes full of questions.
Questions I intend to answer as soon as Grace goes to bed.
“I have all sorts of things planned this week,” Riley informs me that evening as she puts our mugs of water into the microwave. “I’m coloring my hair in the morning and Grace asked to watch—don’t worry, I won’t do anything to hers without permission.” She sends me a knowing smirk, already easing the concerns she correctly assumed were on the tip of my tongue. “And then we’re hanging out until it’s time for her riding lesson. It’ll be her only one this week because the barn is staff-only the rest of the week. Tuesday, we’re going to Janey’s to play with Emmett while she goes to the Thanksgiving luncheon at the nursing home where she works. Worked?” She shrugs like she’s not sure which is accurate, which is valid because Janey’s been on maternity leave for a while now, and I don’t know if she plans on going back. Honestly, I don’t know if Janey knows. “I have a cute little craft thing we’re going to do with him to surprise Janey. It’s a handprint with each finger a different color, so it looks like a turkey. Me and Grace might do one too, just for fun. And Wednesday, we’ll probably have a lazy day here unless there’s something you need me to do?”
She’s rambling, the words tumbling out at rapid-fire pace.
I tune in upstairs, making sure I don’t hear a sound, and then I grab Riley, jerking her into the embrace of my arms. “Breathe. It’s okay. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
She sags into me, her cheek pressed to my chest, and I run my hands up and down her back soothingly. “Talk to me. What’s going on in this head of yours?”
I move one palm up to smooth her hair back from her face, then rest it at the nape of her neck, cradling her as I bring her eyes to mine. She takes a soft, relieved breath. Still, she doesn’t say anything.
“Riley.”
My tone is different and we both hear it. I’m not in Dad Mode anymore, not trying to sound polite and professional because Grace is listening. This is me, Cameron, talking to her, demanding that she tell me what’s got her so worked up.
“I was wrong.”
The three words are a sucker punch to my gut that sends me reeling. Thankfully, there’s more.
“I promised you I could handle ‘enjoying the moment’ and that being all there was, but…” She tries to shake her head, but my grip is too strong, so instead, she drops her eyes. “I was wrong.”
“Wrong how?” I grit out, and her eyes fly back up to mine, nearly begging me to understand whatever it is she’s trying to say.
“I want more. I want all of it—you, Grace, your family, holiday dinners… I mean, you probably eat turkey and dressing around a big table and play silly games until football comes on. I’ve never had that, don’t you see?” Her voice drops off to a whisper, even as her gaze stays boldly locked on mine. “I want all of it, more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”
Relief washes through my entire body. Fuck, I think it washes through my soul. The soul I would’ve sworn, just a few months ago, that I didn’t have.
She’s not rejecting me. She’s settling in deeper. She’s just not sure I’m ready for that. But I can alleviate that worry right now. “Me too,” I tell her. “I want you. I want more too.”
A soft smile blossoms slowly across her lips, lifting them in tiny increments until she’s beaming. “Really?”
The microwave beeps its annoying alarm, and in the four short minutes it’s taken to heat our water for tea, my whole life has changed once again. There’s a before-this moment and an after-this moment.
Before, there was no Riley. Well, she existed, but there was a boundary between us. After, she’s mine and I’m hers. And we both know it.