Speak of the Devil – Westcott Family Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Romance
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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“Right on time.” A smile wriggles the corners of her lips, soothing my nerves and erasing any doubts I had. Staring up at me, she says, “I have my stuff packed inside.” Cat’s not cold, but she’s not receptive either. I definitely have my work cut out for me this weekend. I expected no less.

“I can put it in the car while you finish.”

When she opens the door, flashbacks of our argument, of me being out of line, run through my head. Judging by how she pauses in the doorframe with her shoulders tense, I assume Cat feels the same. My heart rate increases, sweat dots my palms, and I can barely meet her eyes when her head turns in my direction. Her smile is gone, too.

“Back to the scene of the crime.”

Reminding myself of the strides I’ve taken to prove to myself and her that I’m a different man, I try for a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving that day.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Waving me inside, she disappears behind the door. When I enter the apartment, she’s unpacking the bag. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I stopped at the pharmacy to get my prescription. It wasn’t ready, so I had a delay.”

I stand in the doorway, trying not to invade her space. Not again. Get in and get out. Give her room. “It’s okay. Did you get what you need?”

“Yes. I also got you something.”

I hadn’t realized I was keeping my eyes glued to the floor until I forced my gaze to her. “You did?”

“Don’t get too excited,” she says with a little laugh. “It was an upsell at the register.” She digs her hands in the bag again, then tosses something silver and small to me.

It’s hard and has little buttons. “What is it?”

“It’s a beatbox. The switch is on the side. I tested it to make sure it worked.”

I roll it around my hand and flip on the switch. Pressing the red button, it kicks into a beat on repeat.

She says, “I know it’s dumb, but I⁠—”

“It’s not dumb. I like it.” I push the blue button. These beats are the worst. I was hitting better beats in third grade, but what do I expect from a register upsell?

“You do?”

“Yeah. Of course.” I hit the green button because why not? “Thank you.”

Laughter trails across the room. “Glad you like it. I really thought you wouldn’t because the beats are so bad.”

“They’re the worst.”

She laughs even louder. “It’s a gag gift, Shane. You don’t have to keep it the rest of your life.”

“It’s from you, so I’m keeping it.”

My words seem to give her pause, and a fresh smile grows on her face. That’s what stops me in my tracks. She’s breathtaking even when she’s not trying, maybe more so. Looking around, I ask, “What can I take to the car?”

“Let me get my suitcase.” She rushes into the bedroom.

“Suitcase? It’s two days.”

Pulling a carry-on into the living room, she shrugs. “It’s not big, but it was easier to pack the essentials in this. Plus, I could organize by day.” I have no doubt she took the extra step. I once threw out the word orderly like it was an insult. Since then, I’ve worked on getting my life together and have discovered that being organized isn’t such a negative concept to me anymore. Clarity came with more sleep over time.

She pulls a tote bag from the kitchen, looping it around the suitcase’s handle.

I tuck the toy into my pocket and start for the car with her stuff. Scene of the crime is correct for how it made me feel. Shitty. I left when I should have stayed back then, but that’s too much to get to when we’re trying to reach Deer Lake before the day gets away from us.

I click open my car, but before I can load her stuff in, Cat runs out. “I’m taking my car.”

Stopping, I stand there with her carry-on in my arms, unsure if my confusion is evident to her. This wasn’t something I expected. “You want to take both? I assumed we were riding together, but I can load it into your car, if you’d like.”

I’ve given her every out, and she’s still moving forward with this wild plan I’ve thrown at her. She looks at her car, then at mine, and back at hers again, a debate raging inside her. “To be honest, Shane, I worry about being stuck somewhere without transportation to escape.”

My hand rises, my forefinger and thumb sliding outward on my brow. I hadn’t considered how this would make her feel. I just wanted what I wanted, and it’s coming at her expense.

Fuck.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

“I want to spend time with you, Cat, but I’ll be honest. I never worked out the consequences of what this would mean to you. My intentions were good. I was giving you space, time, and whatever else you wanted to make this happen, but the results are not what they should be. Not for you, anyway. I owe you so many apologies. I don’t know where to start.” My thoughts are shooting like darts in all directions and hoping to land on something solid. I start back for her apartment with her suitcase and bag in hand.


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