Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Only now, those hands held a newborn baby tucked in a swaddled bundle against his chest.
Every cell in my body shivered. I tried to rip my attention away, but my eyes traced the precious form, my spirit aflutter, my heart in my throat.
Finally, I managed to jerk my eyes from the child only for them to tangle with Trent’s.
Obsidian eyes were wide with shock.
They turned to daggers when he focused them on Logan.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed.
Discomfort blazed.
I wasn’t surprised by the warm welcome.
I knew my name.
I’d worn it like royalty, when really, it’d been nothing less than a cattle brand. Burned into my flesh. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run, not until the day I was slaughtered.
“What’s up, man? You look happy to see me,” Logan whispered back like a razzing to his brother. “Do you remember Aster Costa?”
He hugged me to the side of his chest like we’d remained the best of friends. “A real long time, right?”
“Not long enough.” The grunted words left Trent on a growl.
Nervousness chattered my teeth, the freezing cold from outside dropping by thirty degrees.
This was bad.
Still, Logan just smirked the biggest smirk I’d ever seen and sat back in the chair, looping his arm farther around my shoulders and kicking an ankle onto the opposite knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Arrogance rolled from him in waves.
Crashed into me as heat.
I itched, shifted on the hard metal chair.
He pressed his nose into my hair and breathed out, “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“This is a bad idea,” I mumbled back.
He laughed a cocky sound. “All of mine are, Aster.”
He pointed at the older man who was still giving his welcome, Logan’s voice held just for me. “That’s Gary, Eden’s father.”
A question furled my brow.
Logan almost laughed like he was just catching up on the fact I knew nothing about anyone he was talking about.
“Eden is Trent’s wife.”
“Oh.” My lips formed it almost silently. There I sat, taking in the details as if I were the unwelcomed, second wife at her first family dinner.
Gary continued his introductions. “I just want to say how much we appreciate everything you do for this school and this community. We couldn’t do what we do without you. Most of all, we couldn’t do it without my daughter, Eden, our show director and producer.”
An affectionate chuckle left him as a blonde head peeked out from between the part in the curtains and waved.
The crowd cheered and she ducked back in.
I peeked back Trent Lawson’s way. My pulse thugged when I saw who sat on the other side of him.
Jud Lawson.
Logan’s other brother. He had always been a beast of a man, but different than Trent. Softer, maybe, easier to laugh, though it would be a mistake to believe he wasn’t every bit as savage.
It took me a second to notice he had his hand twined with another on his lap. A woman sat beside him, her attention rapt on the stage.
“Now, without further delay, enjoy the show…” Gary waved toward the curtains and the spotlight blinked out.
A second later, it flashed back on to the curtains sweeping open. It revealed a set made of painted cardboard, a winter wonderland of white paper confetti and silver stars that were strung from the rafters.
“Here we go.” Logan murmured it at my ear as if I were in this with him. As excited as he.
I shouldn’t be.
I should guard myself.
If I were smart, I’d get up and leave.
Because I thought maybe I was in more danger than ever when my spirit lightened in a wash of Logan’s joy when Eden showed from the right side of the stage, wearing a black tutu, tights, and pointe shoes.
A row of little angels followed her out.
They spun around, trying to hide their giggles and shy giddiness as they looked out on the audience in hopes of seeing their families.
People oohed and aahed as Eden led the children through a simple dance.
Mostly the Lawson brothers who shouted and cheered when an adorable little girl with two-black buns on the sides of her head came forward and did an off-balance pirouette.
“Go, Juni Bee,” Logan shouted. “That’s my girl.”
He tapped my thigh, whispered close to my ear, “That’s Juniper, Jud’s wife’s daughter. His too, really, even though not by blood.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Prettiest girl in the room.” Then his voice dropped, turned wicked, wrecked me in an entirely different way, “Except for you.”
I wanted to beg him to stop. To tell him I couldn’t deal with this. That this push and pull was killing me. The gravitation and the disgust. The hatred and the echo of a star-crossed love.
The little girl giggled and blushed and skipped back to the line before three drummer boys joined the group on the stage, marching and beating toy drums.
My spirit did that erratic thing when I saw Gage, the same boy from earlier today, so proud as he drummed to his own beat.