Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“What?”
“Whaddya mean what?” he groused. “Don’t you hear that?”
Evan was snoring and had been since I’d become conscious. “It’s jet lag. He’s tired.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Isn’t snoring supposed to be bad or something?” I offered. “Maybe he’s got sleep apnea and needs one of those mask thingies.”
“He doesn’t have—he’s just goddamn annoying as shit,” Alex said hoarsely, frowning at me.
“You need to consider that he might have an underlying health problem,” I scolded him.
“He’s got a problem, all right,” he said, sitting up in bed. “I wouldn’t have stayed in here if you weren’t because, Jesus, who can sleep with him doing that?”
“Me, I guess.” I sighed, struggling to sit up beside him.
“Yeah, but you were all whacked out on drugs.” He put a hand under each of my armpits and hauled me up next to him. “Christ, no wonder he ain’t got no woman. Who can take this every night?”
“There’s no one woman,” I told my brother, “but I’m sure there are many women in and out of his bed.”
Much eye rolling accompanied my statement, but we both knew it was true.
Alex got up then and went downstairs to get us coffee. He came back a few minutes later with a stricken look on his face.
“What’s the matter?” I asked as he passed me the two cups of coffee, one light, as it had half-and-half in it, and the other black because Alex, horribly, took nothing in his. He got back under the covers, careful not to spill our cups.
“I don’t know what to say, Trace.” He passed me my glasses from the nightstand, then retook his coffee cup.
“Just tell me. Something’s obviously weird downstairs.”
The bedroom door opened then, and Cord walked in. He closed the door gently behind him in deference to Evan, who was still dead to the world.
“Okay,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee and looking at Cord expectantly. “Alex isn’t talking, so I need you to tell me what’s going on downstairs.”
He stood there, visibly deciding what he wanted to say, looking uncomfortable.
“Cord?”
Still nothing.
“Maybe a skosh of a hint?”
He gave me the most pained expression I’d ever seen.
“Oh, for crissakes, what the hell is going on?” I snapped at him as Evan rolled over and nearly made me spill coffee all over him. “Jesus, be careful. I understand you actually need your face in your line of work.”
“First thing in the morning?” he complained. “Sarcasm? Really?”
“Ev, I could’ve burned you.” I was indignant.
“And whose fault is that?”
He had a point. I was the one drinking scalding liquid in bed.
“Where’s my goddamn coffee?” Evan grumbled irritably, which was evidently Cord’s cue because he told Evan he’d get it and left without another word.
I gave Alex what I hoped was a searing look. “God help me, if you don’t start talking in the next second—” My threat got interrupted by my dad, who walked into the bedroom with a cup of coffee—for Evan, I assumed, since he was the only one without one—and a homemade scone in a napkin. “Oh.” I smiled at him, knowing that here finally was a man who would be blunt and to the point. “Dad, what’s going on downstairs?”
“First,” he said, smiling warmly at me, “try the scone.”
“New recipe?” I asked as I took it, because I was always the guinea pig, which was how I knew the scone was mine. I’d never seen him make them before.
“Yes.”
I tried it because it was my job and I knew I wouldn’t get anything out of him until I did. “It’s good, Dad.”
He nodded.
“Downstairs?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well…I know you weren’t aware, but Joanna’s getting married soon, and—”
“Who’s Joanna?” Evan asked.
“Beth’s daughter,” I griped at him.
“Oh yeah.” He yawned. “How come I didn’t get a scone?”
“I can get you a scone,” my father assured him.
“Or coffee?”
“Dad brought you coffee,” I told him.
“No, I didn’t,” my father said. “This is mine. I just brought you the scone to try before I fed them to everybody else.”
“Okay, so Cord’s bringing you coffee, then,” Alex chimed in. “Will you shut up?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Oh, for crissakes, here,” I said, passing him my cup. “Will you stop now, please?”
“Is there sugar in here? I don’t like sugar, only cream.”
“There’s only half-and-half in it,” Alex explained. “Tracy doesn’t like sugar either.”
“Okay, good,” Evan sighed, pleased.
“All set now, angel?” I asked sarcastically.
“Well, no, actually,” he huffed out. “I thought Dad was getting me a scone.”
At which point my father started chuckling and went for the door.
“Don’t you dare leave,” I threatened him.
The way he was smiling at all of us when he turned back, like we were all just the greatest thing, would have distracted me if I hadn’t been having a nervous breakdown. “Come on, Dad,” I said dramatically. “Joanna’s getting married, and…? Please tell me how that’s relevant at this moment in time.”