Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
We’d be okay. I trusted Dash, and he trusted me. If he thought I could handle it, I’d do my best to figure it out.
Thank goodness the day was finally here. Beau’s extreme apprehension was contagious. The unease of the moment caused me to grip the steering wheel tighter than normal and chat endlessly about nothing. As I took the turn onto my parents’ secluded road, I attempted to view my world through Beau’s perspective. It was difficult. These surroundings were etched into my being as a place that held comfort and belonging. This was my home.
I slowed the ride on the massive tree-lined road, leading to the house, allowing Beau to absorb the beauty of the scenery. With the sunroof open, a gentle breeze wafted inside. Nature happened around us as the birds chirped and a leaf or two blew in the car. The sun filtered over us through the canopy of branches above.
“What kind of oak trees are these?” Beau asked, his sunglass-covered gaze shifting to look through the sunroof.
My handsome guy was clad in the new clothes we’d bought him. Far different than the tattered jeans and T-shirts he normally wore. His hair was meticulously styled in a cut that did in fact accentuate his strong jaw and chin. His lips appeared plumper and somehow more inviting. The time it took for Beau to follow the stylist’s instructions to gain the perfect natural sweep off his forehead was wholly endearing. He’d mastered the art of hair products in only a few short days. Put it all with his deeply tanned skin and my guy was a thing of beauty. He belonged in my world. We’d do well here.
“I believe it’s a variety of different oaks. It’s the longest tree-lined driveway in Texas. They’ve deemed it an official road. Richmond Drive,” I explained, maintaining the slower speed. In the distance, two ornate gates opened slowly. Just beyond the gates was a flower-edged circle drive with a grand waterfall fountain in the center. All of it had been designed as a backdrop to showcase my parents’ stately home.
“Dash, you actually grew up here?” I couldn’t see his face as it was turned away from me, but I heard a sense of awe in his voice.
“I did,” I replied, nodding, and steered the car around the curve to park in front of the house. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but it still feels like home.”
“How big is it?” Beau asked, turning my way. I slipped the gearshift in place, taking in the slight furrow of his brow. I lifted his Ray-Bans to see the uneasiness in his expression. “Let’s make a pact: I’ll stay quiet. You handle the conversation. If they ask me a question that requires more than a yes or no, you answer for me. Got it?”
“I do.” I put the sunglasses back in place and reached for the door handle.
“Do I call them ma’am and sir?” Beau asked, his voice was a pitch higher. He was freaking himself out.
“Whatever’s comfortable to you,” I answered and pushed open the door.
“We’re in and out of here. No dillydallying. We have a reason, we give it, then we’re done. Over time, we’ll gradually begin to get to know one another,” Beau declared as I hopped out of the car. His hesitancy was adorable. The fact I’d gotten him this far was a positive. Although we weren’t to the goal line yet. He had to leave the vehicle and walk up the steps to see for himself that everything was like I promised. I’d tease him about this for eternity.
I shut my door. Beau still didn’t voluntarily open his. Hmm. It was up to me to get him out. I circled the vehicle, reached for his door handle, and pulled it wide open. Without waiting, I began a slow gait up the steps to the front porch. Beau lagged behind, taking in the house as I pushed the front door open.
“Dasham, dear. You’re not to use the front entrance. We’ve discussed this at length. Why’re you always such a test?”
I couldn’t help my smile at her reprimand. It had been years since I’d seen her last. I’m glad our relationship hadn’t changed: me always being myself no matter the situation, her being frustrated with my actions. But her appearance had changed. Her face didn’t have a single wrinkle.
She was pretty. More relaxed in long linen pants and a colorful top. Her hair was swept back neatly, fastened with a matching tie. What was more surprising, though, was that she opted for flat sandals. I’d never seen her in anything other than a traditional skirt suit and high heels.
“Mom,” I said happily, leaving the door ajar for Beau and heading toward her. “You’re glowing today. I like the new look.”