Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
We spend the evening laughing, telling stories, and counting books. I don't mention the woman who threw soup on me, and I especially don't mention Mac. I don't interject much at all, letting the others do all the talking.
I catch Sage, who knows me better than any of the other women, watching me more than a handful of times, and I do my best to give her a look to explain that I'll talk to her later. But even with the dip of her head in acknowledgment, she doesn't stop looking concerned.
"I think he's going to want me pregnant again as soon as possible," Adalynn whispers. "Once he accepted that he doesn't have to be anything like his adoptive parents, he's a hundred percent onboard with having a big family."
"You have a lot of years to make up for," Madison, Adalyn's best friend, declares before turning her attention across the room. "Claire? What about you and Walker? Any plans for a baby?"
"We have Larkin," the woman says with a delicate smile at the mention of her daughter.
No one argues with her. Claire was married to another man from Lindell, and after Hux Kennedy died in a training accident on the military base, she came back here to be close to his family. It's one of those subjects that most people are respectful of and don't bring up.
"What about you, Sage? Is there a man in your life?"
"Too many to count," she says with a wide smile.
"Any that aren't fictional?" I tease, giving her a nudge with my elbow.
Her smile grows wider. "Not a chance. Real men are scum, with the exception of your three, of course."
Everyone laughs at the ridiculousness of it, but Sage may be on to something. The only three good men left may have all been recently scooped up by Claire, Adalyn, and Madison, leaving no one left for the rest of us.
Mac Hammer definitely doesn't fit into the good-guy mold the others have been cast from. I can't think of one instance where Chase, Walker, or Cash would treat anyone with the same level of disrespect that Mac has thrown my way.
Conversation shifts, first going to the names they're thinking of for their babies until landing on plans for New Year's Eve tomorrow.
Before the evening is done, several cupcakes swimming in my gut, it's decided that hanging out at The Hairy Frog is the best choice. Although I'd rather stay at home and drown my sorrow in chocolate syrup and ice cream, I conclude that having some more girl time might be exactly what I need to forget all about Mac.
Chapter 12
Mac
I narrow my eyes at Walker Conroy when he slides a beer across the bar top in my direction.
"I know what you did," I say before lifting it to my lips to take a drink.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, but his eyes lift, his attention drifting across the room to Claire.
She's here with several of the women from town, and I don't have to look over my shoulder to know that Riley fucking Wilson is one of them. I've heard her throaty chuckle more than once, and every time it drifts to my ears, my cock stirs in my jeans.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," I snap. "Asbestos? Really?"
At least the man has the wherewithal to look a little embarrassed.
"Was Jason in on it?" I ask, knowing he's the guy who now owns the duplexes across town where Claire was staying until she was told to find a different place to live because there was asbestos in the walls. Of course, the woman, being a mother, got out of there as fast as possible, leaving Walker's house the most reasonable place to land.
"It's no big deal," he mutters.
"It is a big deal. You're trashing my father's name. He built those duplexes. In the fucking nineties, Walker. They hadn't been using asbestos for decades by then."
"She doesn't think any less of your father," he says. I know she doesn't, but it irritates the shit out of me that he's lying and manipulating someone at my father's expense. I have enough shit going on right now. I don't need people whispering about my father's business, which is now my business.
“I have a reputation to keep,” I snap, some of my anger drifting away when I hear Riley laugh once again.
“Is there something else bothering you?” he asks, making my jaw clamp closed.
"No, I'm fine."
I can tell by the way he dips his head that he doesn't believe me, and I'm grateful that it's busy enough in here that he can't really grill me about my attitude.
"Let me know if you need anything else," he says before walking off to help another customer.
A few minutes go by, and everyone in the bar is laughing and having a good time. It's New Year's Eve, and we should all be celebrating the successes we've had this year. But it's a little difficult to think of all the good that has happened when I'm facing such a monumental repair at my house and the extra business I have to turn down in order to make time to get it done.