Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Two smirks as though he enjoys holding all the power. I’ll do my own research later, but I may as well get all I can from him now.
“It’s been rumored that Heming and Ford used to hide artifacts within the building. While at parties, they’d give each other clues to try and find them. If they weren’t found by the end of the party, they were ‘gifted’ to the building. Their party trick would involve their friends and partygoers. Everyone would hunt for these hidden treasures.”
“The place has treasure hidden?” I ask, brows lifting. “Valuable items?”
Two grins, eyes flashing wickedly. “That’s the thing. Every single artifact was silly and worth nothing. Once, Ford hid a note that said Heming was a vampire. Heming did find that one and proudly hung it in his office until his death.”
“It sounds like they had a lot of fun.”
“My dad thinks they were gay, but because it wasn’t something people at that time revealed about themselves, they kept it hidden away like their many shared treasures. It would explain why neither man ever married.”
My heart patters in my chest. Thinking about these two playful friends, and potential lovers, from another lifetime feels like one of the historical romance novels Mom likes to read.
“Did you learn about this stuff from your dad?” I ask, unable to keep my sappy smile from tugging at my lips. “Maybe we could interview him as part of our research and—”
“No,” Two snaps, eyes burning hot with anger. “You do not get to meet my family, Golden. Ever.”
Hurt pokes holes in my chest. Once more, this mercurial man finds a way to stab at me for reasons unknown to me.
“Why not?” I ask, scowling at him.
Two opens his mouth to speak, but then Mr. Pederson interrupts to begin his lecture. I studiously take notes, attempting to not get distracted by Two’s surliness. When class is over, I wait for more explanation, but Two bolts before I get a chance to ask him to answer my question.
There’s a reason and I’ll figure it out.
We’re going to have to work together. If that means airing the dirty laundry, then so be it. Once I find out what his problem is with me and my family, hopefully, I can fix it so we can move on.
It’s just a small hurdle, not a roadblock.
We’ll get past this and maybe just maybe this class with Two won’t be so freaking miserable for me.
Two
She wants to interview my dads.
Is she insane?
As soon as class was over, I had to get the hell away from that maddening girl. It’s already dangerous enough having to interact with her in class, having been forced to pair up with her.
But to bring her home?
To the same house she almost got instead of me?
Fuck no.
I’m low-key looking forward to talking to Tate today. Not that I’m anywhere near confessing this shit to him, but it’ll be nice to distract myself.
When I arrive, I’m somehow not surprised that his Jeep isn’t there. Within seconds, though, he whips into the spot beside my car. I climb out and make my way over to the driver’s side to assist.
“Oh, hey,” Tate says, thrusting two to-go coffee mugs my way. “Can you carry these?”
Chuckling, I take them from him and wait by the doors going into the building. Once he’s grabbed his bag and keys, he rushes over to me to open the door. I follow after him, hardly noticing the intense smell of paint because the scent of heavenly butterscotch billows from the small opening on one of the lids.
“Grab a seat,” Tate instructs. “And for the love of God, get some heat going in here.”
I find my usual seat—the thought oddly comforting—and set our cups down to fiddle with the fireplace. Once heat is blazing, I hand him his cup and bring my own to my nose so I can inhale it.
“I hope you love it,” Tate says, watching me eagerly. “Making people love coffee is kind of my thing. My future brother-in-law was totally against coffee, but I converted him.” He beams at me. “Go on. If this one isn’t right for you, I’ll find an even better one.”
I blow into the hole and then take a tentative sip. Delicious, rich butterscotch and smooth coffee dance along my taste buds. Like Tate did the day we met, I can’t help but do a little appreciative wiggle because it’s that good.
“I knew it!” Tate cheers, offering me a hand to slap. “I’m really good at this.”
I give him a high five and take another sip. This shit is amazing.
“Now that the important part is out of the way,” he says, grinning at me, “tell me how your week’s going.”
“I got hit by a car in the school parking lot.”
His eyes widen. “What? Is the Rover okay?”