Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Call me Jessie, please. Hello, nice to meet you.” I shook her hand before turning a bit. “Allow me to introduce my boyfriend—partner, I mean. Austin.” Flustered, I finished, “We live together. Because it’s permanent.”
Abort! Abort!
“Hello.” Austin balanced the dessert platter on one hand and reached the other forward for a handshake.
“Hi,” Camila said, dazed for a moment as she took him in. She cleared her throat, stepping back. “Hello! Welcome.”
“These are for you.” Austin pushed the platter forward.
“Oh.” The smile was back in full force. “Thank you so much! You didn’t have to do that.”
“Crap,” I said, glancing back at the car. “I meant to bring a bottle of wine as well.” I grimaced at her. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it!” She leaned in a little. “We have plenty.”
“Camila,” came Matt’s disapproving voice from the interior of the house. “How long do you intend to strand our guests on the porch?”
Her smile dwindled rapidly, and a cagey look lit her eyes. “Oh my—I’m so sorry. Please, come in.”
She stepped to the side of the door, her shoulders tensed. I knew exactly how she was feeling—my heart also quickened upon hearing that familiar tone.
“It’s fine, really.” I waved away her sudden concern as Austin ran his hand along my shoulders, from one side to the other, before lightly trailing it down my back, offering quiet support. I leaned into his touch for a moment, stilling myself, taking a breath. Matt did not own my world anymore. This dinner was at his house, but that did not give him sole control of the proceedings. We could leave whenever we wished.
The front room was just as stale as the neighborhood, with light gray walls, a dark gray wraparound couch, and a plain beige rug beneath it. A glass coffee table held a vase filled with a bouquet of white roses, a necessity for Matt every time we’d entertained. A painting one might find in a hotel hung on the wall behind the couch.
Matt stood from his seat at the end of the couch, laying a Pottery Barn catalog down on the coffee table. He wore a light blue button-up shirt with black slacks and black shoes he’d probably had Camila polish. Jimmy, on the opposite side of the couch, stood as well, his smile bright and his clothes equally formal, if a little rumpled.
I could feel Mr. Tom moving around the perimeter of the house, checking things out or maybe just stretching his legs. He hadn’t been moving much while he was here, and I guessed that was because Jimmy had stayed in his room a lot. I wasn’t sure how the eating and bathroom situation was working for him and was honestly a little afraid to ask. I wasn’t sure what lengths Mr. Tom would go to watch over Jimmy (though my heart squished every time I thought about his devotion to my son).
“Hey, bud.” I gave him a tight hug. “Did you guys have fun the last couple days? Have you settled in?”
“Jacinta, please,” Matt said, his tone disapproving. “You’re suffocating the young man. It has only been a couple of days. He’s well able to live his life without his mother hanging over him at every turn.”
“I already don’t like him,” Ivy House whispered in my mind. “Set him on fire, lock him in a closet to burn up, and be done with it.”
It really spoke to my anger and frustration at Matt’s comment that I half contemplated her suggestion. He was definitely in one of his moods.
Trying to keep the peace and hopefully lighten things up, I widened my eyes at my son, who was accustomed to his father's outbursts, and dropped my hands. I faced my ex. He looked older than I remembered. His eyes were tight and his jaw clenched, etching the opposite of laugh lines into his skin from years of disapproval. His hair was slicked with a severe part to the side, and while before it had somehow seemed refined and cultured, now it seemed uptight and too greasy. His posture was still great, but his affluent air seemed strangely lacking. His power and dominance definitely were. Time had altered my perception of him.
“Your wrap is gorgeous,” Camila said, still holding the dessert. “Just let me know if you get too hot and would like me to take it.”
“Oh, here.” I unslung it from my shoulders and crossed to the coatrack by the door. “I’ve got it.”
“I see not much has changed.” Matt gave Austin a commiserating smile. “She never did know how to dress for the occasion. One would think we were headed to a disco.”
I barely stopped my shoulders from tensing. Here we go.
When I made it back to him, Austin slipped an arm around my waist. His anger burned through the bonds, but his tone was easy and nonchalant.