Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Benson threads his fingers with mine, and he squeezes my hand three times. My eyes slowly drift shut, and I lean into him, welcoming the warmth of his body, welcoming his support. His actions have my eyes clouding, but I hold in the tears. I won’t cry here, not in front of all these people, people who love him. They’ve always loved him, he’s always been theirs, but for me, everything has changed.
And it’s beyond overwhelming.
“Okay, dinner is ready!” Elli announces, and Benson places a kiss to my ear.
“I got you,” he whispers, his voice rough and full of emotion.
“I know,” I reply as he pulls back to look down at me. I do. I know that just as much as I know I can’t run from him. No matter how badly I feel I need to, I can’t. I’m his. He gives me a small smile, and I smile back with no hesitation.
Without much warning, Callie wraps her arm with mine and beams up at Benson. “I’m not sure if I should thank you for helping me win the bet, but I don’t think you appreciate losing.”
Benson winks. “Callie, you know good and well I never lose.”
Evan scoffs. “I used to beat him all the time at sock hockey.”
Quinn nods. “Yeah, he’s trash without a stick.”
Benson grins at his brothers. “Good thing I’m always carrying a stick, eh?”
My face flushes as Callie snickers beside me. Elli smacks him playfully as Shea laughs loudly, dancing in the kitchen with his grandsons as they hold on for dear life. I would too. That’s a long way to the floor if he dropped them. Not that I think he would. He’s Shea Adler. Walking hockey god and the best grandpa ever, according to the mug that sits on the counter.
“You okay?”
I look over to my best friend and lie. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Probably from all the bet-losing you’ve done.”
I snort. “Shut up, and stop gloating. It’s not cute.”
“Oh, I’m not gloating. I’m just excited to call you my Miss Muffet.”
“I dislike you greatly.”
“Eh, you’re still going to be my maid of honor, so it’s cool,” she says as we walk together into the massive dining room. The table is full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, gravy, mac and cheese, and biscuits that glisten with butter. I am a huge fan of Elli’s cooking, but even the excitement of filling myself to the brim doesn’t ease my fear or my thoughts. As I sit down, it’s almost as if I can only hear white noise while I watch Aiden Brooks kiss his wife, Shelli, as she buckles their son into a high chair. Boon Hoenes sits with Zac in his lap while Posey puts a bib on him. Evan sits beside Callie, handing her a glass of lemonade before he gives her a chaste kiss on her temple. Quinn sits beside Ava, filling his plate, while she just looks around, visibly uncomfortable.
Shea pulls out Elli’s seat at the head of the table before capturing her jaw in his hand. “Dinner looks incredible, sweetheart.”
Her eyes are full of such all-consuming love as she brings his palm to her lips. “Thank you. Would you like me to make you a plate?”
“No, I’ll make yours,” he tells her, and my heart explodes in my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benson sit down, and then he sets a plate in front of me. All my favorites, which is one of everything plus two biscuits, sit on my plate. I look over at him in awe, my throat closing with emotion as he reaches for his fork. “Do you want a beer or lemonade?”
“Lemonade.” He slides the cup to me, keeping the beer as I lean into him, my hand squeezing his thigh. “Thank you.”
He kisses my temple with such ease, it makes my heart ache. “Of course. Eat, my love.”
Breathless, I sit straighter and do just that. As I shovel food into my mouth, I try not to fall back into my thoughts, but it’s hard when I feel one thing and my brain tells me something totally different. I have nineteen different scenarios going off in my head. Ranging from Benson’s actions being real, to him doing it for show, to him doing it for the sex. It’s so frustrating, and I wish I could know the truth.
I have to ask.
I have to communicate.
But fuck if that doesn’t scare me to the core.
Because his rejection could ruin me.
Quinn Chapter Two
I feel sick to my stomach.
Sweat is dripping down my back, and every single nerve is firing off.
This doesn’t feel right.
Being here with my family, Ava sitting beside me, not eating anything my mom has cooked, it just feels so wrong. As I inhale mashed potatoes, I can’t help but think of Emery. How, if there is food, she’s eating it with no cares about who is watching, who is judging, or even who is talking. That girl is eating, and I miss her. I miss her so much it hurts, and no matter how hard I try to act as if I care for Ava, I don’t.