Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
That’s so wildly untrue.
This woman hurt him so badly that he really believes he’s damaged. Between her and his father, has anyone who was supposed to love him actually done that? Or has everyone in his life hurt him at some point or another? Has no one fought to protect his heart like he fights for everyone else’s?
Oh, sweet Gannon.
I gather my dress and climb into his lap, giving him no choice but to wrap his arms around me. How can I not? He’s gone through hell because of Tatum’s words. Her poison has held him hostage for far too long. I’ll be damned if I let him believe any of those things she said are true.
Her words will be erased by mine.
I nestle against his chest, listening to his heartbeat against my cheek. He holds me close, pressing his lips against the top of my head and holding them there. There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know where to start … or how to do it tastefully without threatening to commit murder.
“I haven’t known you for very long, really,” I say against the backdrop of Mozart. “But I know everything she said to you was a lie.”
He sways side to side, holding me tight.
“I don’t know your dad, but I’ve heard about him from Tate. And it’s hard to believe that you’re his son. How could someone so terrible and rotten have a child as remarkable as you?”
He chuckles softly against my hair.
“Yeah, you can be an asshole,” I say just to make him laugh. “But it’s all an act because the Gannon Brewer I know is sweet and thoughtful. Kind. Very good at giving oral.”
His laughter grows louder.
I peer up at him and smile. “Want me to go back and fight her?”
His smile is to die for. “No, I don’t want you to go fight her.”
“Gosh, I want to. I want to give her a knuckle sandwich.”
“A knuckle sandwich?” He snorts. “No one says that anymore.”
“I just did.” I sigh. “And I mean it. I hate her.”
“Don’t hate her. She’s not a bad person.”
I huff in disbelief, struggling against him to sit up. “I beg your finest pardon.”
He pulls me against him again, rolling his eyes at me. Although I am irritated he would defend her, I am glad to see a little levity back in him.
“Listen, buddy, she’s a bad person,” I say. “I’ll go along with you and assume she really was pregnant or thought she was. I’m not comfortable judging that situation. But I am comfortable—really, really comfortable—saying she’s a complete cunt for intentionally trying to hurt you in such a personal, terrible way. Fuck her, Gannon.”
I can’t see his face, so I’m not sure if he’s fighting a smile or if he’s annoyed. And, really, I don’t care.
“This is what it looks like when someone fights for you,” I say. “I know that might be new to you but get used to it. I’m feisty.”
This time, he laughs. “I’m tired of talking about her.”
“I’m not. I haven’t even plotted her demise yet.”
“Stop it, Carys.” His chest vibrates as he laughs. “You’re being silly.”
“Wait until you see my plan. Tate is usually my accomplice in such matters. I wonder how I can bring him into the fold without telling him how I know all this. I just don’t think Courtney has it in her to bury a body.”
“You have to stop,” he says, trying to hold back his laughter. “Please. Stop.”
I nuzzle against him and sigh. “Fine. But just know I’m sitting here wondering where my shovels are.”
He snorts, shaking his head. But he lets it go.
We ride through the streets of Nashville in silence aside from the music on the radio. I wonder if Gannon and Gray have ever realized these songs sound the same. Do they actually listen to this, or is this their version of elevator music?
I relax against Gannon and think about his admissions tonight and how hard it must’ve been for him to open up to me. It’s not in his nature, and now I better understand why. It took a lot of courage to override his pain and share his story. To give me a peek into his past.
And it must mean something that he wanted to share it with me.
Okay, Gannon. I’ll meet you where you are.
“You’re afraid you’ll be your dad, right? Well, I’ll admit something to you, too. I’m afraid to be too vulnerable with men because the one man I needed to love me refused and I’d rather keep that kind of rejection limited to my father.” I shrug. “We’re a fucked-up pair, Brewer.”
His arms flex around me. “Did you remember where your shovels are?”
“What?” I ask, laughing. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to need one to bury your dad.”
“Nah, he’s old. Let him live his life out in misery.”