Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Dalton grins, and the soft skin above his thick beard flushes an adorable shade of pink. “Come see.” He takes my arm and leads me into the kitchen. Laid out on a trestle table is a hot plate with several warming dishes covered with aluminum foil. On the counter there are numerous large bowls filled with Greek salad with crumbly white feta cheese, a potato salad with celery and finely chopped scallions, a pasta salad with sun-dried tomatoes and olives and what looks like a homemade focaccia bread with rosemary. I step forward to peek beneath the wrap of the hot dishes, finding spiced chicken, a casserole in a rich sauce, and a spicey rice. Everything smells mouthwateringly delicious.
“You did all this?” I ask Dalton, my gaze flicking between him and Blake, who’s leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded and a smile curving his kissable lips.
“I did,” Dalton says.
“He wouldn’t let any of us in here. Not even for a glass of water.”
“What does your dad think?”
Dalton folds his arms, determination lowering his brow. “I told him I want to become a chef…own a restaurant one day.”
I straighten, smoothing my hands over my dress. “Are you serious? You really told him?”
“I did.” Dalton reaches for me, tugging me forward and kissing me gently on the lips. “If it wasn’t for you, Gab, I never would have found this thing that I love…I never would have been brave enough to take this step.”
“What did he say?”
“I think he could see I wasn’t going to hear a word against it.” Dalton’s fierce determination about his new direction in life is evident in the way he stands, the way he talks, the way he moves. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.
“That’s amazing,” I say, my swell of pride heating my skin.
Blake nods his agreement. “Finally, he can stop bitching and boasting about how hard his job is.”
“I don’t know,” I say, touching Dalton’s ropey forearm. “Chefs have it tough, especially the ones who are training.”
“Don’t encourage him, Gab.”
I grin and we all laugh, Dalton’s excitement about his future filling us with a contagious buoyancy.
“Kain is changing his path too,” Blake says. “He’ll tell you more himself.”
I stare at Blake, waiting for him to tell me more. Kain isn’t in any position to be thinking about the future. He needs to fully recover first, and that’s going to take some time.
Blake’s hands go up, and he steps into the room. “He’s decided to drop out of the team.”
“He has?” The relief I feel is so visceral, it makes my knees weak. After watching him drop like a stone on the field, I don’t think I would ever be able to face attending another game or knowing he was out there in danger.
“The doctors told him they could sign him off to play again, but that there is an increased risk of him having issues in the future. His heart was bruised. Kain’s decided he’d rather live a long life than take a risk for football.”
“And he’s going to work with Dad…take on all the business side…when he’s finished studying.” Dalton says. There’s relief in his voice and I realize that this is part of the reason Lukas has let him go and follow his dreams without a fight.
“He always did want to go into business,” I say.
“Yeah, but not the family business.” Blake rubs the back of his neck. “A lot has changed.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you have any bombshells to drop?”
Blake shakes his head, then shrugs his left shoulder. “Anything I have to say shouldn’t be a surprise.”
I stare at him, waiting for more, but the sound of a key turning draws all our attention.
When Kain walks through the door, taking each step slowly, I can’t hold myself back. I rush toward him, so relieved to see him on his feet, overwhelmed by how much older he looks with his full beard, worried by the hollows that remain beneath his beautiful blue eyes. My arms envelope him before he has a chance to respond, pinning his arms at his sides. Tears I didn’t know were coming stream down my face.
So much relief pours out of me, my knees shake, and my body is wracked by sobs that turn into relieved laughter. “You’re back.” I say, my words muffled into his shirt.
“I’m back.” His voice is gruff with emotion as he eases his arms from my tangled embrace and holds me against this body. He feels different; slimmer, maybe. The time he spent in the hospital has robbed him of his training bulk, but he’s still solid and so much bigger than me that he makes me feel safe and protected, even in his diminished state. The kiss he presses to my forehead is chaste, like a brother would give a sister, and I remember that Lukas is behind him, closing the front door, relieved to have his son safely home.