Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Ben blinks. “I thought you knew. Binx congratulated me at the store. She’d heard the news from Radcliffe’s friend who works at the dealership. That’s part of the reason I wanted to come over. To check out the babysitter and to chat with you for a few minutes when you got home. I wanted you to hear the news from me.”
I clear my throat, fighting to swallow past the acid bubbling up from my stomach. “Oh, right. Sure. Great. I mean, congratulations.” I force a smile so stiff it feels like it’s going to crack my jaw. “That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll continue to be very happy together.”
“Thanks,” Ben says, looking nearly as uncomfortable as I feel. “We’re not going to rush anything. The ceremony probably won’t be until the fall, but…it feels right.”
I double down on the smile, hoping my back teeth won’t shatter from the force of how hard they’re grinding together. “I’m so glad. That’s so important.” I clear my throat again. “Sorry, but I really do need to grab that shower.”
“Of course. Right. I’ll get out of your chicken hair.”
I push out a laugh that sounds more like I’m in the early stages of an asthma attack but manage to keep my smile in place until Ben’s out the door. When I hear his car start outside, I sink down onto the floor by the pile of discarded shoes near the garage door, fighting tears.
But I only stay there for a moment.
I have hair to wash, a kiddo to pack into the car and a brother who loves me waiting for me across town. I don’t have time to get in my feels about Ben being engaged to marry fucking Radcliffe less than a year after our divorce was final. And I really don’t have time to remember how “right” and “perfect” I thought our wedding was, all those years ago.
If I let my head go there, I’ll be in tears before I know it and Chase gets upset when he sees me cry. So, I do what I do best. I compartmentalize, shutting all this madness away for later, and hurry upstairs to shower and grab toys to take to Wes’s house.
It isn’t until we’re home two and a half hours later, after Chase’s teeth are brushed, he’s had a bedtime story, and I’ve tucked his sweet little self into bed that I let my thoughts turn back to Ben’s big news.
Before I know it, I’m downstairs at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey and the one book I promised myself I would never open again.
That’s where Aaron finds me an hour later, still nursing my whiskey and the tattered remains of my hard-loving heart.
Chapter 10
Aaron
I should go, leave her to deal with whatever she’s dealing with in peace and privacy. Melissa doesn’t like an audience in the best of times, let alone when she’s down and out.
But she looks fucking miserable.
And beautiful.
And so young.
With her makeup-free face and a giant brown sweatshirt over shiny brown leggings, she looks like a kid again. A scared kid, who doesn’t know how she ended up in charge of a grown-up life that feels like it’s spinning out of control.
“I know the feeling,” I say, pausing by the back of the couch, not wanting to get too close if she decides she’d rather be alone.
She looks up, her eyes red and puffy. “Yeah? You know how it feels to be the ugliest, grouchiest, dumbest goblin in Goblinville?”
“You are not ugly or dumb,” I say.
Her lips twitch. “But grouchiest goblin is still on the table?”
“Grouchiest sex goddess, maybe?”
Her expression falls as she shakes her head. “No. I’m not a sex goddess. I’m old and crusty and faded by time and trial. This girl was a sex goddess.” She points at the open book in front of her as she takes a long drink from her tumbler. She swallows with a wince before adding, “She was so cocky and confident and positive she’d won big at the game of love. Of life, really. Married people are thirty percent happier, on average, than unmarried people. Did you know that?”
I shake my head as I move closer, pulling out the chair next to hers.
She sniffs. “Yep. Thirty percent. That’s for men and women, across the board. Married people also live a couple years longer, on average, but who cares about that? A year or two isn’t a big deal. But thirty percent happier every year, year after year?” She sighs and flips a page in the book, revealing a gorgeous shot of her and Ben on their wedding day, laughing as they pose with a giant metal rooster. “That’s a lot of happiness to watch pass you by.”
I rest my good hand gently on her back, rubbing between her shoulders. “It isn’t going to pass you by. You’ll find your special someone someday. Even if you remain the grouchiest sex goddess alive, you’re still a sex goddess and one hell of a cook. There’s a good percentage of the male population who will get down on one knee for the food and pussy benefits alone.”