Page 20 of Family Bonds: Carson & Laine

“That’s the nice guy part of you coming out,” she said. “There are plenty of men out there that are selfish and don’t care. Why do you think the term Minute Man came about?”

He burst out laughing. “Good point. That’s not me.”

“Nice to know,” she said, smirking. “But back to me and my crazy life.”

“It doesn’t sound so crazy to me,” he said.

“Probably not, considering you are part of a family that founded an island.”

“There you go,” he said. “The history in my background is enough for multiple books.”

“Which are out there,” she said.

“None written by my ancestors,” he said. “Though some had consulted on them.”

“It just goes to show the solidarity in your family. They do what they need to do and aren’t out for a buck.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, laughing. “There are plenty in the past decades that might have wanted the easy way out. It seems this generation and those that live on the island work for what they’ve got and want to make sure they aren’t seen as part of the Bond name but just who they are.”

Which was what she was hoping she’d learn from Carson.

From what she’d known of the Bond family she’d seen that, but hadn’t talked to him even though she was attracted.

“The nice guy, again,” she said. “I happen to like nice guys. Maybe because they see me for who I am and don’t judge on other things.”

“Who saw you as something else?” he asked, frowning.

“You’d be surprised. The obvious is the long blonde hair and fun carefree attitude. I live my life knowing tomorrow could change. I try not to settle for anything. I do what makes me happy and push myself to try things that others might not.”

“Like a bucket list?” he asked.

“I’ve got a list. As I said, the paintball is on it. But a bucket list seems depressing. One day my father told me dying is easy, living is hard. I didn’t understand what he was saying, but then I got it.”

“For the person going through it, he’s right. For those left behind, not so much.”

“True. Living isn’t easy for those left behind either,” she said softly. “My father refused to be looked at with pity and sympathy and he sure the heck didn’t want someone taking care of him.”

Carson nodded his head. “So now you live each day like tomorrow might change forever? The dancing when you’re happy?”

“That’s right. If I have the urge to break out in dance and it makes me feel good and doesn’t hurt anyone, why not?”

He laughed. “It hurt you this time.”

“It did,” she said. “My first broken bone. I thought for sure my father was going to have a fit, but he was good about it. My mother even better.”

No reason to explain more about that call as it’d give things away she wasn’t ready to do yet.

“What else is on your list?” he asked.

“Give me a second to get the chicken going. I’m hungry. Would you like another glass of wine?”

“How about water?” he asked. “Unless you want more wine.”

“Let’s crack open the nonalcoholic one.”

“It might taste like shit...stinky toes.”

She laughed. “You got the body part in there.”

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