Page 113 of Bet On Me, Daddy

“Yeah, well, I have to convince her to take me back, first.”

“You will.” There was such conviction in Julie’s tone, he was tempted to believe it himself. “You’re going to take yourself over there, and you’re going to apologize to that girl, and you’re going to tell her that Mama Julie told you that if you don’t get your head out of your ass, you’ll have to answer to me.”

Some of the sadness and grief gave way to amusement. “She’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Good. Then once you’ve made up with her, we’ll all go out for a nice dinner somewhere. Your treat, of course.”

“Of course.”

New tears welled in Julie’s eyes as she squeezed his hand, hard. “And then you’re going to stop being a stranger. We miss our boy.”

“I’ve missed you, too. So much. I just…”

“I know, baby.” Another hard squeeze as she wiped at the tears slipping down her cheeks. “And we understand. But it stops now. The blaming yourself, avoiding us, it all ends here. Understood?”

Beckett Stone wasn’t a man used to taking orders. But sitting there in the kitchen of his second childhood home, surrounded by two of the people he loved most in the world, he could only nod. “Yes, Mama.”

Ruby

Why hadn’tshe taken the week off, like Dr. Winters had suggested?

Because you have bills to pay. And your landlord doesn’t give a fuck if you’re too sick to work.

Collapsing face down on her bed once again, Ruby groaned in relief as her aching muscles finally relaxed for the first time all day. As grateful as she was that Jacqueline had gotten her the job at Palmetto Enterprises back, she sorta wished it had taken a little bit longer. At least then she would have had an excuse not to go back right away.

The worst part was, now that she was home, she had to do things like clean her kitchen and make herself something to eat. No Daddy Beckett to come fuss over her anymore. Two whole days she’d gone without talking to him, and every text that came in from someone who wasn’t him was like another knife in the chest.

But it was fine. Good, even. They weren’t right for each other and even if hehadwanted to work things out, which he obviously didn’t, they would just end up hurting each other again.

It was for the best that he hadn’t contacted her.

Seriously. It was.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at her ceiling and sighed. Yeah. She still sucked at lying to herself.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and when she finally gathered enough energy to pull it free to read the message, she scowled at the screen.

“Is he fucking psychic?”

Beckett

I’m on my way over. Can we talk?

Relief, dread, excitement, and a dozen other conflicting emotions crowded her chest as she read and reread the message.Two days of no contact and all of a sudden he was on his way to her house to ‘talk’?

High-handed, bossy asshole.

Part of her wanted to tell him to fuck off. To leave her alone and never contact her again.

But they’d still have to see each other at the club. And like it or not, she’d have to give up the friends she’d just found if she truly wanted to cut him off completely.

So they’d just have to find a way to be civil to each other. Which meant, unfortunately, talking through their breakup.

Was it even a breakup if you weren’t a couple?

For two people who’d wanted to keep things casual and simple, they’d certainly managed to make things really fucking complicated.

Blowing out a breath, she tapped out a message back.

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