Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I am so confused on the ins and outs of all of this that when I look at Braden, I can see he is aware of where my thoughts are. He reaches out and takes my hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.
“Just be yourself.” He smiles and it’s genuine. I know how this started off for him … rub the street thief in his family’s face.
But maybe things have changed for him, too? Maybe he feels this escalating emotion like I do?
And then he leans in and kisses me softly on the forehead. The act is so gentle that I actually close my eyes and lean into him. It’s so strange, but I feel like being with him, letting my walls and fears come down, is exactly what’s supposed to happen. I feel collected and calm, relaxed with him. I’ve never felt this way before, but in Braden’s presence he makes it all so easy.
I could stay like this forever, but my door opens, and a man dressed in butler attire is standing there, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture stiff as he stares straight ahead, not making eye contact.
I climb out and smooth my fingers along my dress, my pulse racing. I wonder if they can see my heart beating, if it’s so pronounced that it’s visible.
Braden places his hand on the small of my back as soon as he’s out of the vehicle and standing beside me. I take comfort and strength from his touch, and tell myself this isn’t the worst thing in the world.
I can do this.
That’s what I keep telling myself as we head toward the front door.
Braden
“Braden, darling, you’re late,” Delia croons as Macy and I walk through the front door. My hand is on Macy’s back, mostly because I need that contact with her.
“Son, good to see you,” my father says, reaching out his hand for me to shake.
“I wish I could say the same,” I tell him with a cold smile, ignoring the offer of his hand. I feel Macy stiffen and the tension coming from her increase and without thought I rub the small of her back to try and ease her worries. It’s sad that I’m more connected with this woman than my own family, considering how long I’ve known her—but it’s true.
“I see you haven’t changed,” my father says, his voice stern.
“A chip off the old block,” I tell him, praying to God I’m wrong. I don’t want to be anything like the man standing before me right now. “Macy, I’d like for you to meet Senator Harris and my stepmother Delia.”
“Oh goodness, that makes me sound so old, Braden,” Delia says, giving me that damn fake laugh that grates on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Macy, what a beautiful name,” she adds, looking Macy over from top to bottom. I can see the flash of jealousy in Delia’s eyes, but then she would be jealous. Macy is fucking gorgeous, and Delia doesn’t like anyone she can’t outshine. “You look so familiar! Are you a model?” she asks, fishing for information, wanting to be able to brag to all of her rich friends about having celebrities at her party.
“No… I—”
“Macy is more of a street performer.”
“A street performer?” Delia asks, and her face goes white.
“Yeah,” I say with a smirk, enjoying Delia’s discomfort until I feel the stiffness coming off of Macy. I don’t have to look to know I’ve upset her. That wasn’t my intention, I just forgot about Macy’s well-being because I love getting under Delia’s and my father’s skin.
“I think I better—”
I cut Macy off, not letting her finish. “Macy has a magic show.”
“A magic show? Like that Angel man who does all those tricks?” Delia asks.
“Much better than him. After all, she managed to steal my heart during her performance. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to introduce Macy to Tabby.”
“Tabatha? Whatever for?” my father barks.
“Because Macy is important to me and Tabby is the only other person I give a damn about and I want them to meet.”
“Braden, don’t you think it’s time you bury this hostility you have towards me?”
“That depends, Dad. Have you apologized to my mother for fucking around on her the thirty years you were married?”
“Braden! Lower your voice. People can hear you,” Delia hisses.
“Braden, perhaps you should leave if this is the attitude you’ve brought with you,” my father responds, his arm going around Delia.
“Maybe we should be going,” Macy says, clearly uncomfortable.
I put my hand in hers and refuse to let her leave. Instead, I pull her away from my father and Delia, not wanting to share the same air as them another moment.
“I want you to meet Tabby,” I murmur in her ear.
“Braden—” she protests, but I slide my hand up her arm and put it against her neck, forcing her to look at me.