Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
There’s a pause, and then his eyes widen. “What do you mean, you’re at the Manhattan police station?”
Ace turns toward his dad, brows raised.
“I have a license, Dad!” I hear Gunnar’s voice yell through the phone.
“You don’t have a fucking CDL license, Gunnar!” Thatch yells back. “You can’t fluffing drive a semitruck through Times Square!”
Cassie looks up from her decorative pillow arranging. “What happened now?”
Thatch slaps a hand over the speaker and mutters, “Our son’s been brought in for driving a tractor trailer through the city. He says it was for his business.”
“His business?” Cassie questions in confusion. “He doesn’t have a fucking business.”
My dad shakes his head, whistling sharply and counting his blessings all at once. “I guess I should just be thankful Julia’s dating Ace and not Gunnar.”
“Cass,” Thatch says, pointing at her like he’s delivering devastating news. “We have to go down to the Manhattan police station.”
“We?” She snorts as she holds up another photo of Ace and me toward the wall. “You mean you.”
“Yes, we.” Thatch sighs. “He’s your son, Cassie.”
“Yeah, but Ace is my favorite son today.”
“Shall I remind you that our son could be going to jail?”
“Thatch, you and I both know jail is the last place Gunnar should be. He’ll learn too much. Make too many friends. I’ll end up entertaining men with teardrop face tattoos named Snake and Meathead. I’m not cut out for that life. I don’t even know how to make toilet wine.”
“Is there a point to this?” Thatch questions, both hands on his hips now.
“Yeah,” Cassie retorts. “The point is that you better get your big ass down there and fix it.”
Thatch turns toward Kline with a hopeful look. “Kline? A little help?”
Kline sighs the loudest dad-sigh in history. “Let’s go get your delinquent.”
As they head for the door, I hear Thatch already calling his lawyer. “Caplin Hawkins, my guy. I’ve got another problem…”
I turn back to the chaos of the apartment, now quieter with half the parents gone. Cassie and my mom are still hanging framed memories like they’re trying to turn our apartment into a museum of “The Love Story of Ace and Julia.”
Ace sidles up beside me and grabs my hand, tugging me gently.
“Come here,” he whispers before pulling me into our walk-in closet and pointedly shutting the door.
I giggle. “What are you doing?”
“Is it creeping you out a little bit how many framed pictures of us our moms are hanging?”
“Creeping me out?” I laugh. “It’s like Chucky started a romance magazine. I already planned to take some down after they leave.”
He grins and leans in to kiss me. “Hello, roomie.”
“Hey, yourself,” I say, smiling up at him. “You ready to live with me?”
He nods and rubs his nose against mine.
“You do realize that means you’ll never be able to escape me, right?”
He nods again and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“You’re going to have to wake up to me every morning. And I’ll be the last face you see every night. I’m going to be—”
“Jules, babe, you’re making me hard,” he interrupts, grinning like the menace he is. “So, if you don’t mind, let’s keep the dirty talk to a minimum until our mothers leave.”
I burst out laughing, burying my face in his chest.
And Ace wraps his big, strong arms around me, pressing another kiss to the top of my head. “Love you, Lia.”
I smile against his shirt. “Love you too, roomie.”
Man, life sure is good. You know, besides Ace’s brother possibly going to jail. Really, though, that’s another sign that everything is right in the world.
Saturday, July 4th
Ace
Fourth of July at Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad’s lake house is always a big deal.
And this year is no different.
The whole crew is here. My mom and dad and my brother Gunnar, who is miraculously not in jail. Julia’s parents, Kline and Georgia, and her sister Evie. And Wes, Winnie, Lexi, and her little brother Wes Jr.
Lexi and Blake Boden are still together, stronger than ever. Blake will be joining the NFL draft this year, and all eyes are on Wes Lancaster and the New York Mavericks to see if they’re going to draft him. Word on the street is that he’s a first-round draft pick, but there’s obviously no good in counting chickens before the eggs are hatched.
The entire Winslow clan is scattered across the lawn and deck—Wendy, Howard, Remy, Flynn, Ty, Jude, their wives, their kids. It’s chaos, but it’s our chaos. The Hayes family is here too. Finn, his mom, his brothers Reece, Jack, and Travis, and his sister Willow.
Basically, it’s a full house in the best way, and it’s exactly how Fourth of July should always be.
I’m standing on the deck, watching the lake shimmer under the July sun. It’s hot as fuck outside, but I can’t stop grinning.
Julia is out on the water, floating in an inner tube, her hair slicked back, sunglasses on, laughing at something Scottie just said from the tube beside her. Scottie’s recovery has been nothing short of miraculous. She’s walking again—slowly, with a cane—but she’s walking. And every day, she gets stronger.