Porter: Men of Lovibond (Mend of Lovibond Book 3) by Georgia Cates

Author:Georgia Cates [Cates, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780986120497
Publisher: Georgia Cates Books, LLC
Published: 2017-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

Porter: Did she cry when they cut it off?

Frankee: She looked sad, but she didn’t cry.

Frankee: Don’t worry. She’s going to be ok.

Frankee: And you’re going to be ok.

Frankee: Don’t act sad when you see it. Even if you are.

Frankee: She needs to see you be ok with it.

Frankee: It’ll be an easier transition for her if you seem all right with the change.

Porter: I can do that for her.

Frankee: I know you can. XO

I feel Kit’s apprehension when we enter the house. Even if I couldn’t sense it, her uneasiness becomes tangible when she takes my hand in hers and squeezes.

“No worries. They’re going to love it.”

“And if they don’t, it’s going to be gone soon enough anyway.”

I’m a bit on edge myself. I did what I could to prepare Porter but seeing his mom for the first time in his entire life without her long hair is going to be a shock for him.

I went to the salon with my mom, and I remember that moment when they spun her around in the chair. Can’t lie. It was when my brain registered that my mom had cancer, and it was real and it was happening. No more denial.

Gabe. I don’t know him at all. I have no idea how he’ll react to seeing his wife’s hair gone, but I hope he has the same grace my dad had.

Porter and Gabe are in the living room watching television. “Well…” Kit touches her hair as they turn to look at her. “It’s gone.”

The lines that were on Porter’s forehead earlier are gone. And I know he’s going to be okay. “I like it.”

Gabe holds out his arms. “Come here.”

Kit goes to him, and he pulls her onto his lap. He puts his mouth to her ear and whispers something that brings a huge smile to her face. “Gabe Beckman…”

I guess that means he likes it.

Porter gets up and tugs on my hand, my cue to follow him to his bedroom. “They look like they need a minute. Could I talk you into taking a ride with me on the four-wheeler?”

My family rides four-wheelers all the time. “Sure.”

“We should probably put on old clothes. I’ve been known to hit a mudhole or two.”

“I didn’t bring anything old.”

“You can put on something of mine.”

I look like a freaking homeless person when we walk out the door. “I hope we don’t run into anybody. They’ll offer to take me down to the local soup kitchen.”

“You look fine. But doesn’t matter anyway. We’re not going to see anyone where we’re going.”

“Which is where?”

“Into the woods.”

I put on the helmet Porter gives me and climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Better hold on tightly. I like it rough.”

“I’ve ridden with my brothers. You don’t scare me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Porter is a fucking speed demon. A daredevil. An adrenaline junkie. He hit every mudhole he saw and jumped every hill in sight. My brothers have nothing on his ass.

He stops the four-wheeler and turns off the engine.

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