Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Even with me there to make sure Harry did his homework, was fed, clothed, supported, and attending school and all his extracurriculars, it wasn’t enough. I helped out with Callie and the grandkids when I could. But my woman couldn’t switch off and it wasn’t helping she was practically running that bakery all by herself at the moment. Xander was only a few months old so Callie was at home with him and our granddaughter Harley.
Fuck.
Granddaughter. Grandson.
We weren’t old enough for that shit.
Well, I was.
Sloane wasn’t.
Parking my SUV in the car park behind the bakery, I carried the flask of decaf coffee I’d made for my wife. The bakery hadn’t been open today, but Sloane had gone in this afternoon to prep and she still hadn’t come home. She’d texted me earlier to tell me she’d eaten, but I didn’t know how much longer she was going to be, and I was sick of waiting at home alone. The bungalow felt so fucking empty.
School started back next week, the summer holidays already almost over, and Harry was making the most of his freedom, staying at his pal’s house in Golspie for the night. His friend’s parents assured me they were home, there was no partying, and they were holed up inside playing video games.
Far more innocent than the shit I’d gotten up to at fifteen.
I knocked on the back door of the bakery, already anticipating seeing my wife like I hadn’t seen her in years.
It felt like it.
Other than when we were in our bed, I hadn’t had Sloane to myself in weeks.
“It’s me,” I called through the door.
A few seconds later, the back entrance swung open. Ever since Callie was attacked at the bakery, I’d made both my wife and daughter promise no loud music when they were on their own and always to ask who was at the door before opening it.
Sloane’s gorgeous face split into a happy smile as she stepped back to let me in. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d bring you coffee.” My gaze swept the place. It looked like she was in the middle of cleaning up. There were trays of cakes in airtight containers waiting to be frosted, which I knew she’d do in the morning before opening. Bags of frosting ready to be chilled. Flour and bits of butter still on one of the counters.
Sloane ran a hand through her hair as she watched me set the carafe on her clean counter. Her eyes roamed over me greedily in a way I recognized after many years of marriage. Satisfaction heated my blood.
“I miss you.” She gave me a soft smile as she echoed my feelings. “It feels like forever.”
We’d been married for almost seventeen years. There had been disagreements and hurt feelings, but I could count those moments on one hand. Despite my resistance in the beginning, my wife had given me a beautiful life. I thought I’d wanted solitude. Instead, she’d given me the chaos of parenthood, as well as the gift of it. She’d filled an emptiness in me. Coming home to her and the kids fixed something broken in me. Sometimes I shuddered to think what my life would look like if Sloane hadn’t fought so hard to show me what I needed.
I think that’s why I hated sitting in the house alone.
There were very few people I’d admit that to. “Aye, it does feel like forever.”
She sighed. “I was just finishing up and then coming home to you.”
I shrugged. “I’m here now. Put me to work.”
“No. You just sit there and keep me company.” Sloane gestured to a couple of footstools over in the corner. “Tell me about your day.”
I hungrily watched her as she moved around the bakery cleaning up. “Do you remember Dr. Dick?”
Sloane scowled. “I remember.”
Dr. Dick was what Fyfe called Dr. Cameron Phillips. The moniker caught on. After I’d witnessed him trying to intimidate Eilidh into dating him, I’d made it my fucking mission to run the arsehole out of town. Eilidh was Callie’s sister-in-law. She was family. I’d known her since she was a kid. No one fucked with my people. Or with women.
Her uncle Lachlan felt the same way. Once we’d discovered Dr. Dick had a habit of harassing and stalking women, Lachlan handed that information over to a journalist down in Edinburgh. Three months ago, the story on Dr. Dick broke. Eilidh, unfortunately, was pulled into another media storm over it. The poor lass. She’d been through a lot lately. But hopefully, this was the end of it and she’d get some peace. “The board revoked his medical license. Decision came in today. Lachlan told me.”
Sloane straightened. There was that look in her eye. The one I secretly lived for. The look that said she thought I could do anything. “You and Lachlan did that.”