Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4), Sarah Brooks [urban books to read .txt] 📗

Mr. Sheehan nodded. “I don’t blame her. Watching her mama walk in and out as she did over the years will make trusting hard for her. And she’s still dealing with their crap all these years later.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You seem like a nice guy. And Edgar likes you, so I hope to see you sticking around.”

I didn’t know what to say. But I appreciated the sentiment. “Thanks, Mr. Sheehan. I hope to as well.”

He slapped his thighs with his hands. “Well then, I’m off. As long as you’re okay to look after the monster here.” He leaned down and rubbed Edgar’s head. “But if it gets too late and she’s not back, bring him back down to my place.” He pointed to the end of the road. “I live just over there behind the trees. Can’t miss it.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Sheehan. But I plan to wait here as long as it takes. I don’t think Edgar will mind.” The giant dog had already gone and curled up in a bed Skylar kept for him on the porch. He was snoring loudly.

Mr. Sheehan handed me Edgar’s leash. “Good luck, young man.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll need it,” I called back as the older man walked back down the road.

I looked back at Edgar who seemed relaxed, and content and I wished I felt even a fraction of his ease. I settled against the porch column and pulled out my phone, prepared to wait as long as I needed to until Skylar came back.

I was preparing to fight for her. And I wouldn’t walk away this time.

Chapter Seventeen

Skylar

“You need to come over here now!” my mother screeched into the phone. I was in the middle of an important project that I had been struggling to focus on for weeks. I had a deadline looming and I didn’t have time to deal with my mother’s drama.

“I can’t, Mom. I’m in the middle of work,” I told her.

“If you don’t, I will leave him. I swear to god it will be for good this time. I can’t take this man’s nonsense anymore,” she shouted.

I sighed. It was just another round on the rollercoaster that was my parents’ relationship. I wasn’t emotionally strong enough to handle whatever crap they were dishing out. I was sure it was over something minor like my dad eating the last bagel or leaving his socks on the floor instead of putting them in the hamper. My mother could get pissed over any tiny thing.

“Can’t you two sort this out yourselves? Last time I checked you’re adults. You don’t need your daughter to play mediator—”

“This is different this time, Skylar. If you don’t get over her right now I don’t know what I’ll do,” she warned, her voice wobbly.

Knowing she’d keep calling and calling until I eventually gave in I figured I’d bite the bullet and deal with their latest saga as quickly as I could.

“Fine, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I said.

“Good,” was all my mom said before she hung up the phone.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. I looked over at Edgar who had lifted his head sleepily. I got up and he stood too, knowing that something was about to happen. “Let’s see if Mr. Sheehan can watch after you. Because lord knows how long I’ll be.” I grabbed my phone and Edgar’s leash and headed to my car.

Mr. Sheehan was fine to keep Edgar, as I knew he would. At this point, Edgar was as much his dog as mine. Then I headed to my parents’ house. I could hear my mother’s shouting as soon as I got out of the car. I looked around, hoping no neighbors were outside to hear her. If she kept this up, the police would be called—again.

I hurried up to the door and opened it, preparing myself. The house was in chaos. My mother had thrown what looked like my dad’s entire wardrobe down the stairs where it landed in a heap just inside the front door.

“What the hell?” I muttered, kicking my dad’s boxers and socks out of the way. It wasn’t hard to figure out where my mom was. I just had to follow the sound of her yelling. I looked around and saw no sign of my dad.

I walked into the kitchen where my mom was smashing dishes on the floor. “He keeps doing this to me! I don’t have to take it!” she shrieked, picking up a bowl and preparing to fling it across the room.

I hurried over to her and grabbed her wrist before she could throw the dish. “Stop it, Mom, or you’ll have no dishes left.” I wrenched the bowl from her hand and carefully placed it back in the cabinet. I looked around at all the destruction. “You want to tell me what’s going on? And where’s Dad?”

At the mention of my father my mother’s face turned a mottled shade of red. “He left and he’d better never come back! I’ve had it, Skylar. He’s not welcome here anymore!”

I took both of her hands and walked her to the kitchen table, helping her sit down in the chair. Then I went to make her a cup of coffee, hoping it would help her settle down. Only one mug remained that my mother hadn’t smashed in her pique. This was probably the tenth set of dishes she had gone through in the past ten years. They were always the first casualties of her anger. I was pretty sure she liked the drama of smashing them.

I made her an instant coffee and put the steaming mug in front of her. I had to brush glass shards from the seat before sitting down beside her. “What did Dad do this time?

Mom lifted her coffee and took a sip. “Thank you, sweety,” she murmured. “You’re the only one I can count on