Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Fucker,” he muttered.
“Yes, you are.” Mitchell leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs.
He hung his head. “Holding onto the anger was my way of coping. With what I perceived as a betrayal.”
“If it helps,” Tully said, “Adam called Carlos on it and said he was wrong. You were the heart and soul of that team, Linc. Still are, given how he came all this way to meet Emma.”
I’m pretty sure I know why he came all this way. “Tully?”
“Yes, Linc? Do you need to cuddle?”
Despite his bodily pain and the ache in his heart, the words from his friend tugged a chuckle from him.
“Yes.”
“Good. Cuddle with Mitchell. I’m going to fix us some food.” He walked by them and back to the house.
Linc turned and watched him pause at the door.
He didn’t turn around. “I expect cuddling to be happening when I come back out.” Tully vanished inside after wagging his finger in the air.
Mitchell hadn’t moved and the scowl on his face hadn’t faded. Linc cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, come on then. Get over here and cuddle me. You heard the man.”
Unfolding to his six-foot-five height, Mitchell stared down at him. “Don’t you ever fucking freeze us out again.”
Linc gave him a nod, not trusting himself to speak. Right now, he could do nothing because in the morning he had to deal with Emma’s betrayal and that fucking sucked.
…
Emma sat on her sofa, legs tucked beneath the quilt her daughter had made for her. She had no tears left in her. Everything around her made her think of how far she’d not come. Same crappy interior from when her old man had been alive. Same furniture. Same carpet. Even the same dishes in the kitchen.
Some days she swore the smell was still the same. The rank stench of cigarette smoke. The moldy scent due to the sweat stains on his chair and the moisture from the spilled drinks. It wasn’t true but she imagined it in her head.
Nothing about this place was hers. She didn’t have a voice in it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one thing which was hers. A painting of the night sky, full of stars and beauty.
The bedroom she slept in was bare because it felt odd putting up things in a room where her father had brought his whores…when he’d managed to leave the living room.
Greer’s room was the only one with any feeling. She’d encouraged her daughter to decorate how she wanted.
“Mama? Are you ready?”
Was she? Definitely not. But hey, how did she tell her daughter that the man she’d fallen in love with had essentially called her a gold digger as he pounded the face of another man? Pretty sure there wasn’t a Hallmark card for that most specific occasion.
“Yes, baby.” She rose, folded up the quilt, and draped it over the ugly orange sofa.
Helping Greer into her coat, she stepped outside to the cold rain falling. She didn’t care about herself. However, a sick child wasn’t anything she wanted to deal with. Emma hurried her through the rain to the car. Her hands trembled as she started the engine.
Driving through to the center, she took a few deep breaths and looked in the rearview at her daughter. Greer had come out of her shell so much due to the center. Friendships had been formed.
“You’re sad, Mama.”
Automatically pasting a smile on her face, she glanced again into the mirror. “I’m just lost in thought, baby.”
“Lying is bad, Mama. You told me that.”
“And it is. But I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
As they got out at the center, she took several breaths, shored up her shoulders, and reached out for Greer’s hand. They entered and the place was oddly quiet given the time of day. She walked up to the counter and smiled at Sammy who was behind the counter.
“Hello, Greer,” he said with a large smile. “Ma’am.”
Okay, that was odd. He hadn’t called her that in a long time. Not since she’d told him to address her as Emma.
“Go play, Greer. I’ll be by later to pick you up.”
After her daughter signed in, she hurried off down the hall. Emma walked around behind the counter. Miss Yander slid in her way as she tried to go to the office.
“What are you doing?”
She wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Just stop fidgeting and tell me.”
“Mr. Conner said you’re not to go back there anymore.”
Shock sucked the air out of her lungs. “I’m sorry, what?” Miss Yander flinched. “Is he here? Or is he hiding somewhere else?”
“No need to scream to the world, Miss Henricksen. I’m here.”
Slicing her gaze over to him, she hardened her heart against the cuts above his eye and the split lip. Emma marched by the young woman and right up to Linc.
“Are you firing me?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I am.”