Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“I promise to tell you everything you need to know. But you can’t listen in, or else the attorney-client privilege goes up in smoke.”
Aubrey narrows her eyes. “Don’t screw me over, Caleb. I swear to God, if you make me regret helping you get close to Raine—”
“I won’t screw you over, Aubrey. I promise on my mother. I’ve seen how much Raine loves you and your family. I understand that fucking you over would mean fucking Raine over, and I’d never do that.”
Aubrey assesses me with dark, piercing eyes for a long beat, before finally murmuring, “If I find out you’re not telling me the truth, if you’re simply using me with the intent to discard me later, then I’m going to fight you tooth and nail, when the time comes.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
Aubrey gnaws at her lip for a long moment while assessing me. Finally, she says, “If you’re gonna make your Zoom call, you’d better get walking. Can we make it around the entire lake in time for your counseling session?”
“Not even close. I’ll turn around and head back at the right time.”
“I’ll set a timer and let you know when it goes off.” She presses a few buttons on her phone, her tongue jutting to the side with concentration, and when she looks back up, she frowns at whatever she’s seeing on my face. “What?” she barks out. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
I didn’t realize I was smiling, so I don’t know how to answer the question, other than to say, “I’m just amused by what a little rule follower you are.” Is that really the source of my grin, though? More likely than that, I think I’m just impressed with this woman, period. She’s a force of nature, wrapped up in the hottest little package I’ve ever beheld. Who wouldn’t smile at the sight of her kicking ass and taking names?
“Please, stop fighting me, Caleb,” she says on an exhale. “If I don’t follow the rules, the rehab center won’t certify your rehab, and the judge—”
“I know all that, Aubrey. No need to say it out loud.” I make a shooing motion. “Go on. Get your shoes on, babysitter, or I’m leaving without you.”
With a little gasp of excitement, she turns and bounds away, her hot little ass a work of art as she goes; and a moment later, she reappears in white sneakers, workout shorts and a tank top, with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. When she reaches me, Aubrey stuffs earbuds into her ears and makes a big show of turning on a playlist on her phone.
“Ready,” she chirps. “Lead on.”
With a deep sigh, I grab my earbuds from my pocket, slide them into my ears, and head to the dirt trail that follows the lake’s shoreline; and when I’ve checked behind me and confirmed Aubrey’s indeed trailing behind by about twenty yards, I place a FaceTime call to my sister, Miranda—a call I’m deeply dreading. She’s undoubtedly going to ream me. And when she does, I’ll one-hundred-percent deserve it.
Chapter 11
Caleb
France is eight hours ahead of Prairie Springs, so I texted my sister yesterday evening, while she was fast asleep, that I’d be FaceTiming her around 4:00 pm Paris time to get her up to speed on something important.
“Hey,” Miranda says, answering my call. She’s got a full face of makeup and the top of whatever she’s wearing is sparkly. Clearly, she’s dressed to paint Paris red with the group of girlfriends she flew there with the other day. “Is this about selling the cabin?”
“No. I haven’t decided about that yet.”
Concern flickers across Miranda’s face. “What, then?”
I flap my lips together. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase, because there’s no easy way to say this.” I inhale deeply. “I’ve got a two-year-old daughter named Raine. I came to Prairie Springs yesterday to meet her for the first time, and I found out she’s incredible, Miranda. An angel on Earth.”
I’ve done the impossible: rendered my chatty, vivacious sister speechless. After a moment, however, Miranda gathers herself enough to express confusion and shock about my revelation. She demands details, which I provide in a long ramble. And by the time I’m finished talking, my sister is no longer shocked and confused. She’s flat-out enraged by my secrecy before now.
“You’re telling me Mom died without knowing she had a granddaughter?” Miranda shouts at top volume. “Caleb Baumgarten, how could be so heartless and selfish?”
I try to explain myself, as best I can, but even as I try to defend myself, my sorry excuses sound hollow and insufficient, even to me. “If it matters,” I say, “I reached out to Raine’s mother, Claudia, about six months after Raine’s birth, asking to fly both of them down to my house to meet you and Mom, but Claudia told me to fuck off. When I reached out again a few months later, it turned out she’d blocked me.”