Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Shit, darlin’,” Ox continues, not missing a beat, and sure as fuck still oblivious to the tension between me and Nick. Hell, does Oxley not realize how wound up I am by the way Nick’s arm brushes against mine, his big, strong thigh sitting right there, begging me to sink my nails into it? “You’re lucky my cousin was just finishing up a job. Who knows how long you would have been stuck at that old farm if he couldn’t come down and save you.”
“I’d hardly call it saving me. He took me from one shitty situation and put me straight into another,” I mutter. “Maybe I would have been better off. Who knows? If I got stuck at the Christmas tree farm, Billy’s old man might have even invited me in for coffee and I could have stayed in the warmth of their home instead of being stranded on the side of the road with no cell service while being screamed at by my ex for two hours.”
“Who knows?” Nick throws back at me. “Maybe if you’d stayed, you would have burned down their whole house and farm instead of just the one tree in the back of my truck.”
I resist shoving my elbow into his ribs. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re a fucking stubborn brat who’s incapable of accepting help and being grateful for any that comes your way.”
God. I’m going to throttle him in a moment. He knows I’m grateful, but he also knows that I’m far too stubborn to admit it to him. Oxley, on the other hand . . .
I whip around, fixing Oxley with a wide, genuine smile. “Have I mentioned how grateful I am that you came looking for us and saved me? If we had been left there much longer, I’m sure the snow would have eventually taken me whole. Thank you so, so much. I owe you. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask. Actually, can I offer you a warm meal when we get back to my place? It’s the least I can do. But I have to warn you, I’m not the best cook in town, but I’m really good at ordering in.”
Oxley grins wide as Nick starts muttering something under his breath. “You know, little lady,” Ox says. “As much as I’d love to stay for a bite to eat, in the spirit of surviving my cousin, I’ll have to give you a rain check.”
I laugh before the sound falls flat. Cousin. That’s the second time Oxley has called Nick his cousin, but yesterday as he drove me home from the airport, he’d mentioned that it was only a few months ago he’d helped his cousin bury his aunt. Is he referring to the same cousin?
“Wait,” I say, my mind whirling. When we were out by the side of the road, Nick had mentioned something to me about dealing with grief, about how the essence of our loved ones is still around us, woven into the fabric of our memories, and I’d brushed him off, assuming he didn’t know what he was talking about because he’s never lost anyone in his life, and I was sure that if he had, Nana would have said something. But if I’m right, if Nick is the cousin Oxley was referring to, then his aunt would be Nick’s mom. “Oh shit,” I breathe, my eyes widening with horror as I grip Nick’s hand, looking up into his heavy blue stare.
His brows furrow, clearly having no idea what I’ve just figured out, but as he holds my stare and takes in the horror deep in my eyes, he quickly figures it out.
“No,” I breathe, having so many memories of Nick’s mom. Hell, she was practically a mother to me too. Before her, I didn’t know what it was like to be loved by a mom. Of course, I always had Nana, but after my real mother abandoned me at six years old, I’d always had a gaping hole in my chest, always wondering what it meant to be loved in that way. Nick’s mom gave me that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“Come on, B,” Nick says, fear in his eyes as the grief wells up inside of me, darkening my soul. “After everything that’s already gone down today, let’s not get into it. I can’t talk about her with you, not yet.”
I swallow hard. His words are like a blade right through the chest.
“Oh,” I say, dropping my gaze and releasing my hold on his hand. I turn my face away, not wanting him to see the fresh tears pooling in my eyes. All of this time, he’s been dealing with the loss of his mother, and I’ve been living it up in New York, blissfully unaware when he needed me more than anything. I wasn’t there for him, but when it came down to it, would he have wanted me here in the first place? I doubt it.