Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
But neither Tommy nor Felicity have the answers to those questions. And wanting to know is more about the habit of caring about Matt than anything else.
Matt and I are done. I’m never getting the answers to those questions, and I have to be okay with that.
“You okay?” Tommy says.
I shrug. “I’m happy I didn’t find out another way. Thank you for telling me.”
“He’s a shitbag, straight up,” Felicity says.
I shake my head. I don’t want to go into a Matt-bashing session. Not now. Maybe when I’ve had a chance to digest what they’ve said. Maybe when I’ve sneaked a look at the pictures online. But not here. Not with Beau in the room, not in this place where I’ve managed to carve out a little bit of the world that’s not about Matt. “You should both sleep. I’m in the middle of writing. We can talk when you wake up at normal human hours.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tommy asks.
“She’s better off without that horror-story of a man,” Felicity says, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’m fine. You go off and get your beauty sleep. I love you both.”
I cancel the call before they can make any more fuss.
Taking a breath, I spin around on the stool. Beau is sitting behind the drums with sticks in his hands, looking like he’s just landed on Mars. “I’m sorry about that. I had to take it.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”
I nod. It’s half true. I know I will be okay. “It was bound to happen. And leaving him was my choice.”
“You can be angry about it, though.”
“I suppose I can, but not now.”
Beau lifts his arms and cracks the drumsticks over his head.
One, two, three, four.
And then brings them down again without playing a note and laughs at himself. “That’s the extent of my drumming capability.”
“It’s good you know your limits.” I can’t stop smiling, despite the news about Matt. “You always make me feel so good,” I say before I’ve had a chance to think about what’s coming out of my mouth.
He fixes me with a stare. “You don’t even know how good I can make you feel.”
I roll my eyes in an effort to cover up my blush. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he says, and I know it’s true.
“Is it rude to belatedly accept your invitation to Norfolk?”
“You mean, because you’ve gotten that news about Matt, you think you might offend me because joining me for the weekend is clearly an effort to take your mind off your ex?” He’s beaming at me as he stands and crosses the room. “I don’t care why you say yes, so long as you do.”
“Then I guess I’m coming to Norfolk.”
TWENTY
Vivian
As we get out of the helicopter and head toward Beau’s parents, who are standing in front of their house, I suddenly think I should have booked a hotel. When was the last time I stayed at someone’s house? I haven’t thought about logistics, but maybe I should have. I don’t even know if Beau and I are going to be in separate rooms. It’s not like we’re having sex, but why should his parents assume that?
“Dad’s the one shouting,” Beau says on a laugh. He’s carrying my weekend bag along with his own. I glance around, taking in the fields and the trees and big, blue sky above us. We really are in the middle of nowhere. His family probably thinks I’m being a diva bringing a security guy with me, but I didn’t want to walk into a situation and feel vulnerable.
“You want me to check out the house?” Jim asks from behind.
I turn, hoping to keep my voice from carrying to Beau’s parents. “No thanks. I’ll only need you if we go somewhere.” Betty has arranged for him to stay nearby, and Jed is coming to cover the night shift. But now we’re here, it seems a bit overboard to have two guys on security.
“Don’t stress about it,” Beau says. “And ignore whatever my dad says.”
“What do you mean? What’s he going to say?”
“You know, he might just tease you about the bodyguards. He was a father to five boys and my cousin. He can’t exist without giving people shit.”
What have I gotten myself into?
“Beau!” his mother calls and steps forward, toward the gate Beau holds open for me with his foot.
“And you must be Vivian.” She pulls me into a hug. “So lovely to meet you.”
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Cove.”
“Call me Carole.”
“Vivian,” Beau’s dad says, holding out his hand for me to shake. “How do you do? My name is John. I do not answer to any other name. Just Dad or John.” His grip is firm, like an old-school dad, and there’s something comforting about it, even though it’s not the warm hug Carole offered me.