Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
My father’s house is beyond extravagant, but he loves it. He’s been a paycheck-to-paycheck kind of guy his whole life, and this is what he wanted, so Ben and I made it happen for him. The marble tiled floor in the foyer and the crystal chandelier above us visibly draw Skye’s notice.
My brother and father sit in the large living area off to the right. I take Skye’s hand, and we walk over to them. They both stand.
“Hey, Bray,” Ben says.
“Ben, Dad, this is Skye. Skye, this is my father, Bobby Black, and my brother, Ben.”
She shakes Dad’s hand first. He’s actually slightly taller than both Ben and me. His hair is completely gray, and he has some laugh lines around his dark brown eyes.
“Pleased to meet you,” he says.
“You too, Mr. Black.”
“Call me Bobby.”
“Okay, sure.”
He releases her hand, and she turns to my little brother. Although “little” is definitely not the word for him. Ben is slightly taller than I am. When I was younger and immature, I was bothered by his height
Not anymore.
“Have a seat,” Dad says. “Ben’s our bartender tonight.”
“I’ll get you a Wild Turkey,” Ben says to me. Then to Skye, “What would you like, Skye?”
“Wild Turkey works for me. It’s my favorite.”
“Someone who shares your taste in booze?” Ben laughs. “She’s a keeper, Bray.”
I squeeze Skye’s hand. She is definitely a keeper.
I sit down on the couch and motion for Skye to sit next to me. Dad sits across from us in a wingback chair. Ben brings our drinks.
Ben chats about nothing in particular until the doorbell rings again.
“That will be Kathy,” Dad says.
“Who’s Kathy?” I ask.
“Dad’s date, apparently,” Ben says.
I lift my eyebrows. This is going to be an interesting evening.
Chapter Eighteen
I keep my eyebrows firmly in place despite the fact that Kathy looks about Skye’s age. Seriously. Either that or she has really good genes and a hell of a plastic surgeon.
“Braden, Ben, Skye,” Dad says, holding on to Kathy’s arm, “this is Kathy Harmon.”
Ben and I rise.
“I’m so thrilled to finally meet you,” Kathy gushes. She pulls Ben into a hug.
A hugger. I’m next, and I try to return her affection though I feel stiff as a board and I’m about to pass out from her floral perfume. What, did she shower in it?
“And Skye,” Kathy says, “you are adorable.”
Kathy is wearing a pink sundress and stiletto sandals. Her hair is long, straight, and blond and falls down her back in a thick waterfall.
Skye stands.
And Kathy grabs her and hugs her.
“Great to meet you,” Skye says when Kathy finally lets her go.
“Bobby,” Kathy says, “I would love a scotch on the rocks.”
Scotch? I can’t stand the stuff. It tastes like dirt. Give me a top-shelf bourbon any day. Better yet? Just a plain old Wild Turkey. Not top-shelf, but damned good flavor, and frankly? I like the slight catch in my throat.
“Ben, can you get that?” Dad asks.
“I’m on it.” Ben ambles over to the bar.
“So tell me everything about yourself, Braden,” Kathy says.
“Not much to tell. You can google me.”
In fact, I’m sure she’s already googled all of us. She’s probably googled Skye as well, after seeing her in posts with me.
Ben brings Kathy’s drink, and she takes a sip. “Smoky and peaty. Just the way I like it.” Then she sets the glass on a coaster.
“Kathy is a law student,” Bobby says. “She’s interning with us.”
I do some quick math in my head. If she’s interning, she’s most likely a third year, and if she went straight from high school to college to law school, she can’t be more than twenty-five years old.
Yep, I pegged it. Skye’s age. Skye’s age, and she’s dating my father.
Maybe I should be considering Skye’s friend Tessa for Dad rather than Ben after all.
I have a bad feeling about this. I need to have a word with my father. I hate to leave Skye here, but this can’t wait.
“Dad,” I say, “may I talk to you privately for a moment?”
“What about?”
“An investment I’ve got my eye on. I wouldn’t bother you during your dinner party, but it’s kind of an urgent thing.”
“Sure.” Dad stands and leaves the room with me.
I lead him into the kitchen. A few caterers are fussing around, so I lead Dad out the back way to his deck.
“Really, Dad? She can’t be more than twenty-five,” I say.
Dad smiles. “Quite a looker, too. But there’s no investment to discuss, is there?”
I shake my head. “What is it with you? Did you not sow enough wild oats when you were young?”
“For God’s sake, Braden. Your mother and I married young, and once she passed away, I didn’t have time for women, what with raising you boys and all, making a damned living. What’s the harm in my having a little fun?”
“Does that have to include a twenty-five-year-old who works with us?”