Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Light laughter escapes me. “I hear you’re not the best at keeping promises.”
“I’ve broken one promise,” he exclaims through laughter. “One.” Kissing my head, he then hands me a blueberry muffin. “And it was worth it.”
The winds were with my flight, so we landed early. Thankfully.
I’m so ready to be out of my head thinking about that encounter with Anna. I’m not sure how I feel—both irritated and small. I hate that I allowed someone to affect me that way. I had no clever comeback, but that wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. Starting a war with her will never end for me when they share a son. And I care about Beckett and his well-being enough to tolerate a little insult.
I’m still conflicted about whether I did the right thing by not mentioning it to Tagger. Everything comes out in the wash, they say. Do I want to control the narrative by pleading my case first, or is staying silent the right thing to do? I don’t know. It’s given me a lot to think about, though.
The earlier arrival time allows me to stop by Peaches before they close on my way home. I swing the door open, and sing, “I’m baaaack.”
Lauralee comes from the kitchen and greets me with a huge smile on her face. “Hey, you. How was the conference?” I meet her at the counter, and we stretch over it to hug.
“What conference?” Oh crap! It dawns on me too late. This is why I should never lie.
“The Farmers of Central Texas conference you just attended all weekend in Dallas.”
A humorless laugh rattles my throat. “Oh, that. Right. It was a convention, not a conference.” I inwardly roll my eyes at how ridiculous that sounds.
Grimacing, she says, “I didn’t know there was a difference.”
“Oh yeah.” I try to leave it at that and add, “The place looks good.”
“What’s the difference?”
I reach for a cup and head for the fountain machine. “One serves coffee. Was it busy this weekend with the peaches starting to ripen?”
She replies, “It’s picking up.”
Coming to the counter, I dig a bill out of my wallet, thinking it’s in my best interest to hightail it home because I know I’ll fail a Lauralee Knot interrogation. “Keep the change,” I say, already heading for the door.
“It’s a twenty.”
Oops. I wave it off like I’m Ms. Moneypants, then shoulder the door open. “Keep it. See you soon.”
Really not wanting a repeat of what happened at Peaches, I’m more careful and have the story straight by the time I reach the ranch. I open the door and drag in my suitcase. Seeing the back of his head in the living room, I say, “Hi, Dad, I’m home.”
He gets up from his recliner and comes to give me a big hug. “Christine, how is my daughter?”
“I’m good. How about you? Have you had dinner?”
“I’ve eaten and saved you a plate.” He moves into the kitchen and pulls a plate out of the oven. “I kept it warm for you.”
Even a liar like me would change their ways over that kindness. “Thanks, Dad.”
“How was the conference?”
I sigh, knowing I can’t keep this up for long. “Enlightening.”
CHAPTER 30
Tagger
The air in the apartment has changed. It’s stagnant, losing the life it carried when Pris was here. I miss her. Plain and simple.
She made the bed, but I lie on it, messing it up all over again by bunching the covers with the pillow she slept on and burying my face to smell if her scent remains. It does. The sweetest cotton candy and the lightest of florals. That’s my girl.
I roll over onto the remote and grin as I pull it out from under my back. It’s still funny that she mistakenly thought it was the TV remote. Not so much being blinded by the morning light, though. I find so many little things about her fucking adorable, so this one gets added to the list.
Setting it on the nightstand, I get up, ready to go pick up Beckett from his mom’s. We have a little daylight left to go to the park if he’s up for it. When is he not? I don’t think he gets there much during his weeks with Anna, so we make up for it when he’s with me. Of course, he could be playing us both. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a lot like his dad was around that same age.
A great weekend with my girlfriend has me grinning as I lock up the apartment. It’s only made better that it leads into time with my son this week. I’m winning in this game of life.
The car pulls up in front of Anna’s place. “Thanks.” I get out and take the steps by two before ringing the doorbell. The heavy wooden door swings open like it’s light as air, the breeze floating against my ex’s hair and gusting the loose dress behind her. In a flurry, Anna waves me in. “Come in. Come in. We’re running behind.” She leans against the railing with one foot in the air behind her, and calls upstairs, “Beckett, your dad is here.”