Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“Like hell you are,” Carter retorts. “I’m always the favorite. Just ask my Gracie girl.”
Cameron snorts out a dry laugh. “You haven’t been her favorite in months. Not since you refused to take her to the salon.”
Carter gawks at him. “She wanted a bright blue streak in her blonde hair! If I’d done that, you would’ve killed me.”
Cameron shrugs. “She’s still salty about it. It was a test and you failed.”
“I would’ve taken her,” Kyle interjects, nodding like a bobblehead. “That’s why me and Gracie, like this.” He crosses his fingers tight to show how close they are.
“She’s mad at you too. Said you haven’t been by in a couple of weeks.” Cameron glances at me with the tiniest hint of a smile teasing at his lips. “Though I suppose I understand why now. Grace isn’t quite as forgiving, though.”
“Well, lemme fix that right now.” Kyle releases my hand, walks to the doorway, and calls out, “Gracey Facey!”
“Uncle Kyle! You’re here!” a girl’s voice shouts loudly. Suddenly, a smaller version of the rest of the Harringtons hits Kyle square in the chest with a hug. He picks her up, her legs dangling loosely, and waves her back and forth, making her legs look like one of the Elvis clocks I’ve seen at the thrift store.
The warm, honest emotion of the scene makes my ovaries start dancing a super-fast merengue in my belly. Though I love my niece and nephew, I haven’t given much thought to kids of my own, but seeing Kyle with his niece definitely makes him more attractive. As if he needed any help in that area.
Grace is at that awkward stage when kids are more arms and legs than body, with blonde curls that reach down her back, and when Kyle sets her down, I can see her blue eyes match her father’s.
“Where have you been?” Grace demands as she throws her hands on her hips, her tone holding more sass than she should be capable of at such a young age. She’s definitely going to be a handful.
“Here, there, everywhere,” Kyle tells her, flashing a teasing grin as he doesn’t answer the question. I appreciate that he doesn’t put the blame on me for taking up his time because kids can be brutal about that stuff, and if Grace is this important to Kyle, I want her to like me too.
“Hey! You’re new,” Grace says, finally spying me. She comes right up in front of me to hold her hand out. Surprised, I shake it. “I’m Grace Harrington, nice to meet you.” It’s a shift in formality, and I suspect Cameron has taught her to introduce herself this way.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dani Becerra, a friend of Kyle’s.”
“Like a friend… or a friend?” she asks, making it clear that she wants to know exactly how close Kyle and I are. I feel like everyone else in the room leans forward a bit too, interested in what I’m going to say.
“Uhm…” I look to Kyle, hoping for some help here.
But he holds up his hands. “Oh, no, I’m not interfering again. I’ve learned my lesson to let you handle shit on your own. Besides, I kinda want to hear that answer too.” He leans my way, ear first with a smirk on his face. He’s teasing, with no sign of the serious, raw vulnerability he showed earlier, and I’d bet this is how he always acts with his family.
Light, superficial, teasing, nothing of real depth and substance. I’d wonder if they know what they’re missing out on, but I think I already know the answer… they don’t have any idea.
“Uhm… friend?” I answer, not sure that clarifies things for anyone.
“We’re just glad you came,” Mrs. Harrington says, and I throw her a grateful smile.
“Subtle and smooth, as always,” Kayla stage-whispers to her mom.
Kyle scoffs. “I help, I get yelled at in two languages and backhanded in my chest.” He rubs his pec like he can still feel my love tap. “Mom does it and gets a smile of undying gratitude? Do you know what I went through just to get this woman to speak to me instead of flipping me off?” He’s asking the room at large, who of course have no idea, but they’re looking at me like they totally understand.
“Well if you hadn’t been such a—” I pause, not sure if I should curse in front of Grace, and settle on, “pendejo, I wouldn’t have been flipping you off.”
Grace sees my glance at her and offers, “You can cuss or say whatever. I’m eleven years old and have heard it all, either from Uncle Kyle or TV.”
Kyle turns betrayed eyes to Grace. “Damn, girl. You drove that bus right over me with no hesitation. Well, how about no Frappuccino for you this week.”
“Sure, sure, I totally believe that.” Grace rolls her eyes. “I don’t know that one, though. Pen-day-ho,” she sounds out, repeating me.