Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“I don’t like this,” Linc muttered.
“You don’t have to.” Jordan tugged on his hand. “Let’s go talk to the family.” She glanced at Chloe. “Who do you want me to send in to be with you?”
Chloe forced a smile. “Send my bridesmaids in, please. And tell anyone who isn’t family that wants to stay and party to stick around.” She would enjoy tonight if it killed her.
“Chloe, why don’t you let us stay, too?” Linc asked, attempting to handle things one last time.
“Because you’d all kill my fun. You’d sit around with concerned looks, waiting for me to fall apart. And I’d be worried about all of you, and that would defeat the purpose of a party.” The explanation made sense to her.
“Linc, come.” Jordan tugged at his hand, and soon she’d led him out of the room.
But not before he stopped, walked over to Chloe, and pulled her into a brotherly hug. “You deserve the very best, and I promise you the right person is out there. I love you, Chlo.”
She tightened her arms around him, accepting the love she’d never gotten from her father. “I love you, too. Just let me have this night. Tomorrow is soon enough to face things.”
Linc groaned. “Okay, Scarlett O’Hara. But we will talk then.”
Of that, Chloe had no doubt.
In the morning, Linc would do his best to take over, and she’d just have to deal with him then. God, she adored her family. Her love life might suck, but she had a support system not many people could claim. The problem was, come tomorrow, she’d be smothered in worry by well-meaning relatives.
But tonight was for her.
After watching Linc and Jordan walk out, Chloe rose and dug for the ballet flats she’d planned to wear once her feet began to hurt. She slipped them on so she could dance. After all, they’d paid for a high-priced DJ, and she intended to enjoy every moment until she crashed. There might come a time when she cried, but she refused to think about her pain.
Just then, her friends piled into the room, and she braced herself to explain her plans for the evening one more time.
Then they’d have fun.
* * *
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Dad, happy birthday to you.” Beckett Daniels’s family finished singing to their father and followed the lyrics with a round of applause.
“Make a wish, Kurt,” Audrey, Beck’s mom, said to her husband.
He looked around at his wife, Beck, and his other two sons, Drew and Tripp, and smiled, the gratitude in his expression obvious. Then he paused and blew out the candles.
Beck wondered, as he did every year, if his father wished for everyone sitting at this table’s health and well-being. God knows that was Beck’s annual birthday prayer. They’d all learned years ago how fragile life could be after losing Tripp’s twin, Whitney, when they were teens.
The server reached over and lifted the cake. “We’ll slice it and be right back. I’ll take your coffee orders then,” he said and walked away.
“I don’t know about you but that cake looked delicious,” his mother said. “And that frosting? Mmm. I can’t wait.”
Tripp, a pediatrician, grinned. “I’ll take a big chunk, myself.”
Andrew glanced at their father. “You look like you could use a slice, Dad. Have you lost weight?”
Beck shifted his gaze back to his father, noting the more drawn look in his lower face. “Now that Drew’s mentioned it, you do look thinner.”
His father waved a hand through the air. “I’m fine, boys. Don’t worry about me.”
Beck always worried. But tonight they were at his father’s favorite steak restaurant. There might have been a time the Daniels family couldn’t afford a restaurant this fancy or expensive, and Beck and his brothers had put themselves through school on loans, but they’d always had love. And now Beck, Tripp, or Drew could more than cover the cost of taking their parents out for an extravagant dinner.
His father looked up, his eyes widening. “And there’s our dessert.”
Beck tried to get his mother’s attention to see if she’d give him an inkling about his dad’s health, but she was busy digging into the cake the server had placed in front of her first. He held back a groan, telling himself he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It wasn’t like he spent all his time thinking about his sister, but she was always there, ready to pop into his mind and remind him how quickly things could change. How fast life could turn to loss.
“Beck? I asked if you’d like a piece?” his mom asked.
He nodded, knowing it would make her happy. “Hit me up,” he said. “And make it a big slice.” Pushing sad thoughts out of his head, he focused on enjoying the here and now. Something he was still learning how to do, many, many years later. Losing a sibling to leukemia had been harsh and difficult, and they all still suffered the aftereffects all this time later.