Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Exiting the steamy bathroom clad in only a robe, something blue caught my eye. A dress I had bought when I needed an emergency retail therapy trip after another one of my friends asked me to be in her wedding.
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
I pulled the dress out of the closet. With a smile, I headed to my dresser and pulled out a pair of lace panties and matching bra. I had no earthly idea why I was getting myself dolled up. Maybe it was my mother’s words that burned in my brain. Maybe it was because I was one year older and the realization hit me that I needed to move on from a past I had been desperately clinging to.
Anger along with sadness rushed through me.
Flopping on the bed, I sighed. “You really are pathetic, Kynslee. Who are you dressing up for? The mystery man who will pull up in a white truck and sweep you off your feet? Get over yourself, girl.”
I closed my eyes and cursed myself when an image of Miles popped into my head. Not just any image. Miles in a uniform looking hot as hell. Miles staring into my eyes as he pushed into me five years ago, almost to the day, when he was home on leave.
“Ugh! I hate you, Miles Warner! Stop taking up space in my brain, damn you.”
Screw the dress. It was jeans and a T-shirt for me today, and the lacy undies because I couldn’t part with those. You know, sometimes a girl wants to feel pretty, especially on her birthday.
I grabbed my favorite hat that read ‘Hey Ya’ll’ and tied my hair in a ponytail. Applied a bit of mascara and I was ready for the day. And that was all it was, just another day.
The path that led up to my parents’ house was lined with flowers and little garden decorations. My mother would spend hours working in the various gardens she had around my house and theirs. I, on the other hand, was not allowed to touch or even attempt to water any plant. If I did, they were sure to die. At least that’s what my momma would tell me every chance she got. Smiling, I picked a few flowers and smelled them.
As I walked to the house, I saw Rich Warner’s truck parked behind my father’s in the driveway. I paused for a moment, not wanting my imagination to get the better of me. Surely this didn’t mean anything, right?
Why is Miles’ brother here?
My heart stopped for a moment as that overwhelming sense of fear set in. What if something had happened to Miles? I picked up my pace and looked heavenward. “I didn’t mean it when I said I hated him. I really didn’t, Lord.”
I took in a deep breath and steadied my racing heart. He’s okay. I know he’s okay. He has to be. I stepped inside the mud room and heard my father talking.
“Your momma has to be thrilled.”
Rich chuckled. “To say the least.”
Okay, laughter. I could deal with laughter. “What’s going on?” I asked, walking up to my father and giving him a kiss on the cheek. When I turned to Rich, he gave me a polite smile.
Rich and Daddy exchanged a quick look before Rich pulled me into a hug.
“Happy birthday, Kynslee!”
I smiled. “Thank you! How is everyone?”
“Good. Good. Lana is still pregnant as ever. Momma is really excited about a new grandbaby, and the first for my sister.”
I smiled politely and tried desperately to ignore the jealousy I felt at his very pregnant sister. It wasn’t like I couldn’t have been married years ago and have a few kids of my own. I had dated guys, not a ton of them, but I had a couple of long-term relationships. One in Austin during college, then another when I got back to Hunt. I’d dated Jack Williams for a couple of years.
Everyone thought for sure I would have ended up walking down the aisle with Jack, especially after Miles had reenlisted in the Marine Corps and pretty much planned all his leaves for when I was out of town. I still didn’t think that was a coincidence like Miles claimed. When the day came and Jack asked me to marry him, I couldn’t believe it when I heard myself saying, “No. I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t marry you. The time isn’t right. Not yet.”
Not. Yet. That was my response to the guy I had been dating for two years. He’d planned a romantic dinner in an exclusive restaurant and got down on one knee with a violinist playing in the background. It had been beautiful and sweet, I’ll give Jack that. But he had to know, he had to have felt the distance I had placed between us, even from the very beginning.