Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Let’s get you home…or rather let’s get you hostel.”
We both grin at that, but there is still this niggling fear that maybe I’ve ruined something. Maybe I should have gone home with him.
“I’m glad you stopped,” he says, and I wonder if I’ve worried aloud.
“You are?”
“I want us both clear-headed and alert and certain when it happens. I can’t pretend I don’t want it to happen, though. I do.”
“I do, too.” I huddle deeper into the him smell of his leather jacket and into the warmth of his body it still wraps me in. He shoots me a hot look, one that transports me back to the wall in the shadows with his hand teasing my nipple. Wordlessly, he takes my hand. It feels natural to twine our fingers and swing our joined hands between us just the slightest bit, making our own breeze in an otherwise still night.
We complete the short walk in silence and far too soon stand outside the hostel. I start sliding his jacket off, but he stops me again, clutching the lapels to pull me in for one final kiss.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs against my lips, licking into the corners and nipping at the center. “I’ll get it back tomorrow.”
It’s all the promise I need.
CHAPTER 11
MAXIM
My brother’s name on my cell always takes me by surprise. He calls so rarely that it jolts me, mostly because I always assume something must be catastrophically wrong for him to cross the picket line my father has drawn between us. Or maybe I drew it. After four years, it seems to matter less who drew the line. All that really matters is that I stand on this side of it alone.
“Owen,” I answer on the third ring. “Hey.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.” My brother’s deep voice comes across the phone.
“Is Mom okay? Are you?” Is Dad?
I leave that last question unasked, but I dread the day when Owen calls to say our father is gone.
“Damn, Max, why does it have to be doom or gloom before I can talk to my little brother? Maybe I’m just calling to say hi.”
“Okay, hi. What do you want?” The small pause after my words makes me feel ashamed.
Owen is a good man. He may be on the path our father set for him, but he’s not like him. Not like us. He may have balls of steel or whatever my father thinks you need to survive politics, but he also has iron integrity.
“That’s not fair,” he replies with low, firm reproach. “This fight is between you and Dad. Mom and I don’t want to choose sides. You barely answer when we call. You never come home. Mom misses you.”
“Bullshit. You’ve chosen a side, O. Is your precious Senate seat courtesy of Dad’s deep pockets?”
“You don’t know a damn thing, Max. I worked my ass off for this, and it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. You know that.”
It’s true. You have two options in our family: Cade Energy or politics. Owen paid his dues with the company, but he’s always kept his eye on the Oval.
“So are you calling to invite me to the inauguration?” I ask, relaxing into the teasing tone that used to come so easily. “I know I haven’t lived in America in a long time, but did I miss an entire election?”
“Very funny,” Owen returns, a smile in his voice. “That’s not in the plan for another ten years. Maybe by then you’ll have something to show for yourself and can help me win.”
“Oh, I’ll have something to show for myself all right. Whether I help you depends entirely on who’s pulling your strings.”
“The people pull my strings, Max.”
A bark of laughter erupts from me immediately. “Damn, O, there are no cameras rolling. Save the poll-tested lines for your next speech.”
“It’s not a line. I want to do what’s in the best interest of my constituents.”
“So where do you stand on fossil fuels? I mean, given that you used to work for an oil company, I think I know.”
“Let’s just say my views are evolving. I represent California, so there’s a demand for more clean energy legislation.”
“Good luck convincing the public you aren’t in our father’s pocket on oil when you can’t even convince your own brother.”
“I’ve got time to figure it out. In the meantime, back to our mother.”
“She’s okay?” I ask, tensed for his answer.
“Her birthday’s next week.”
“I know.” I clear my throat. “I’ll be…away.”
“You mean in Antarctica?”
“How do you know that?”
“Do you really think our father doesn’t know where you are and what you’re doing?” Owen asks softly. “At all times?”
“Why does he care what I’m doing with my life? All he needs to know is I’ll never work for Cade Energy as long as it’s built on antiquated ideas and fossil fuels. I mean, fossil fuels? Even the name says old.”