Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
At least this round.
Chloe stepped back.
Rix opened the door.
“Hey,” a woman’s voice said, “you’re Rix.”
“I know,” Rix replied.
But Judge knew that voice and called, “Come in, Dru.”
She came in, her eyes darting around the room quickly, but coming to a rest on Judge, her mother’s flame red hair startling him, like it always did, before it settled in how damned pretty it was, and she was.
She moved his way, and when she got close, only asked, “Okay?”
He opened his arms.
She fell into them, hers wrapping around and holding tight.
Something happened in his throat, so he cleared it.
“If you don’t want me here, I’ll take off,” she said to his chest. “I get it. I totally do. But I wanted to be close to Dad.”
“You’re family, doll,” he murmured. “Of course you need to be here.”
She held tighter.
“That’s Judge’s sister,” he heard his father say, obviously he’d come with her. “Dru.”
“Hmm,” was all he heard from Chloe, so he looked her way.
She had her arms crossed on her chest and was assessing this situation, but he could see she was leaning toward complete acceptance of Drusilla Lynch.
“My girlfriend is about to force feed me,” he lied to Dru.
She tipped her head back to look up at him, her brows inching together.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“If you’re not hungry, you shouldn’t eat,” she advised.
“Wrong,” Chloe called.
Judge kept his arm around Dru’s shoulders, so she kept one around his waist as she turned to the sound of Chloe’s voice.
It kept coming.
“Hello, I’m Chloe, and you’re extraordinary. Your hair very well may be the meaning of life. And that hug was incredibly sweet. But Judge needs food. Even if it’s something light.”
“I’m on it.”
That was Rix and he was, considering he was at the phone with the room service menu open.
But Dru was staring at Chloe.
“She doesn’t bite,” anyone but me, “promise,” he told his sister.
“Are you sure?” Dru stage whispered.
Chloe’s lips twitched.
“I’m sure,” he answered.
“Yeah, we’ll have the cobb salad, extra plates, two turkey clubs, cut each of those into four pieces, two Reubens, again cut into quarters, three orders of truffle fries and,” he stopped, looked around the room, and finished, “two pecan tortes, two praline cheesecakes and two flourless chocolate cakes. With a ton of forks.”
So much for light.
Judge’s attention moved from Rix to Chloe, to see her gazing with approval at their friend.
Dru rested some of her weight into his side.
He squeezed her shoulders and caught his father staring at them with a look on his face that Judge quickly turned away from.
And the gang was all there.
Checked in.
Key cards in hand.
Rental with the valet.
Judge had a mental checklist of what needed to get done. It’d probably take a couple of days to do all of it. But those were three things he ticked off the list.
Next, eat.
Then get on it.
Lay his mother to rest.
So they could all get the fuck out of there.
* * *
Judge went in to see her alone.
He did this because he didn’t know what state she’d be in, and if Chloe saw her at all, he didn’t want her to see his mother looking like shit.
She didn’t.
She’d been cleaned up and put in a casket probably one of Jamie’s assistants selected, but he knew his father had a hand in it.
It was an iridescent blue.
Her favorite color.
She looked like her, except dead.
And a lot more tranquil than he’d ever seen her, even if she was passed out.
He didn’t take long with her, but he did tick finding a funeral home and dealing with the casket choice off his mental list.
He should have known his father would get things in hand.
As he walked out, in the short hall outside the small, private viewing room, he ran into that same man.
“All right?” Jamie asked.
“Have you seen her?”
Jamie looked beyond him to the door Judge had just cleared.
Like his dad, Judge got his grandmother’s height. Judge also got her brown eyes.
His mother’s were a light gray-blue.
His father’s were a clear sky blue.
Now, those sky-blue eyes were troubled.
“No,” Jamie answered.
That one word was rough.
Damn.
“Do you want to see her?” he asked quietly.
Jamie turned his gaze to Judge. “You go on out with the oth—”
“I’ll go with you if you want to see her, Dad. We should…as insane as it all was, if you strip away the shit parts of it, us being together is all she ever wanted.”
Jamie studied him. Nodded. Then took in a visible breath.
Judge clapped him on the shoulder, turned around and opened the door, leading them through.
The room was small. There were two enormous sprays of gladiolas behind the casket. A good choice, neutral cream that would go with anything put before it. A short bench sat against one wall and two chairs rested a few feet from the front of the casket. Places to sit and reflect with room to stand and gaze.