Page 38 of Darlin'

"I don't think I could ever support this," I whisper, shaking my head. "The idea of him being out there...hurt." I swallow. "It makes me nauseous."

"Life doesn't always pan out the way we want, Savannah," Marlow says, her tone wavering from bad memories. "You think that when I was ten years old, Idreamedof being a waitress? Do you think Iplannedon having a mom who was a raging alcoholic and a dad who was in and out of jail most of my teen years? No. I didn't. But hey, that's the hand life dealt me, and I think we're all just trying our best to make it work."

"But Beauwasn'tdealt a bad hand," I say, defensive. "He was born into agoodfamily, not abrokenfamily."

"Right..." Marlow's face falls as my words sucker punch her in the throat. "And yet we somehow ended up in the same place. Rescued by the same people." Sheswallows, tone laced with restraint. "Maybeyourdefinition ofbrokenisn't the same as Beau's."

I close my eyes, regretting my harsh observation. Gosh, what am I doing? "I didn't mean to offend you, Marlow. I just?—"

"It's fine," she states, brushing me off. "I'm sure there's tons I don't know about Beau or his upbringing. Hell, I didn't even knowyouexisted until a week ago, but let me tell you this"—her tone sharpens—"if it wasn't for the Paxtons, your brother wouldstillbe living on the streets, okay? So you might not like this life, but it saved him. Literally."

I blink. "What? He was...homeless? Why...why didn't you tell me that? Why didn't?—"

"Because it's notmyplace to sharehisstory," she snaps. "But when you see him, and youwillsee him, maybe ask him about how he got here. I think that'll fill in a lot of gaps youseemto think are missing."

"I—I'm sorry." I've clearly upset Marlow. That wasn't my intention. "I didn't mean to be rude or anything. Are you uh—are you mad at me?"

"Honestly, yeah, I am, but I'll get over it." Marlow sighs as Pippa rushes over with a stack of books in her hands. "Families argue. It's part of the package, right?"

"I guess," I say, flicking my nails and ruining my freshly done manicure in the process.

Family?

"Look!" Pippa exclaims, shoving various books in our faces. "I think I'm set for a few months."

"Wow..." Marlow sucks in a stabilizing breath as she forces a grin. “That’s a whole lotta smut.”

"Which will make for one patient and happy mama," Pippa jokes, handing me a book. "Check this one out."

I frown, examining the book cover and synopsis. "Is this about...aliensex?"

Pippa rolls her eyes. "Don't be such a prude."

"I'm not a prude.” I clear my throat and hand back her otherworld romance. "I just prefer the classics. Can't go wrong with Jane Austen."

Pippa snorts, meandering to the check-out counter. "Listen, Miss Austen has a way with words that makes your heart throb; I get that." She slams four books on the counter and pulls out a few bills from her pocket. "But when your husband's gone for weeks at a time, it's not only your heart that needs a little throbbing, it's your pussy too.”

"Pippa!" My jaw drops as I glance around the line-up, cheeks burning from embarrassment. "Keep your voice down."

"What?" Pippa raises a cheeky brow. "Don't like it when I say"—she raises her voice and nearly shouts—"pussy!"

My eyeballs dang near drop out of their sockets. "Pippa!"

"Pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy," she sings, grinning at the cashier, who's surprisingly calm despite the vulgar performance Pippa's putting on for all of Barnes and Noble. She hands him cash and winks. "Keep the change, babe." Yanking on the handle of the paper bag, she marches to the door. "Let's go home."

"How old is she again?" I ask Marlow, covering my face so that I'm not identified by the local mediaas an acquaintance of the woman shouting obscenities in a bookstore. "I can't believe she did that."

"Old enough not to give afuck." Marlow releases a snorting chuckle as she glances at me. "Dude, you look like a fucking tomato right now."

"I amembarrassed!" Pippa unlocks her SUV, and I fling myself into the back seat, shutting the doors as fast as humanly possible. "Drive, please!"

"Baby girl"—Pippa laughs, starting the car—"you need to learn how to relax." She rolls down her window. "Fuck all these people." She points to random passersby. "Fuck him and her and him and her." She cranes her neck, grinning at my paling white face. "Oh, come on, Sav. We're never gonna see these people ever again."

"Uh-huh," I whimper, sinking back into the leather seats. "Sure."

Pippa rolls her eyes as she rummages through her glove compartment before tossing back a book. "Here, read this. Maybe it'll perk you up a bit."

I blink at the unfamiliar title. “What is this?”

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