Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Once Georgia is settled, she turns to leave but comes to a halt when she sees me in the doorway. Her back stiffens as her gorgeous green eyes flash with longing. “What are you doing?” she asks, pausing near the door and keeping her voice low to not wake the baby.
“I . . . I don’t know,” I admit. “I just had to see you.”
Bri presses her lips together, and deciding she can’t handle hearing it tonight, she heads for the door. She walks straight past me, but when I’m hit with that familiar smell of her perfume, I find myself reaching out and grabbing her arm.
She pauses and both of us stand in silence, and despite knowing how reckless this is, I can’t stop myself from pulling her back and drawing her into my arms until her chest collides with mine. She gasps, her hand bracing against my chest as she looks up at me, and all I see is pain.
She’s still hurting deeply, and I hate that I’m responsible for that. “Don’t,” she whispers, gently shaking her head. “Don’t do this.”
My gaze softens, my hand tightening around her waist and holding her to me. “You’re going to make an amazing mother one day,” I tell her.
Tears well in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. “Have you changed your mind?” she questions.
Pain rips through me as she watches me, waiting for my answer. I see the hope in her eyes, and knowing that I’m going to have to shut her down again kills me. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system or the fact that I’ve been craving her for so long, but I reach out and run my finger down the side of her face, watching as she leans into my touch. “No, I haven’t,” I tell her regrettably.
Bri lets out a sigh, a single tear falling down her cheek. “Then I’ll never be a mother.”
Fuck. No.
“Don’t say that, Brianna,” I tell her, the idea of her never getting her happily ever after because of me makes me want to throw myself off the top of the tallest building. “You’re going to be a mother someday, and it’s going to be everything you’ve dreamed of.”
“No,” she says, determination in her tone as she looks away and rests her head against my chest. Out of habit, my hand curls into the back of her hair, holding her to me, terrified that she might decide to walk away. “I can’t just turn off how I feel about you, and the thought of having anyone else’s child but yours eats me up. It’s always going to be you, Carter.”
Fuck. That hurts.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “You don’t know how much I wish I could give you that. I’ve fucking destroyed myself over the last five months, willing myself to be able to take it all back and change my mind. I’m so fucking in love with you, Brianna. It kills me that I’m hurting you like this.”
I feel her tears soaking through my shirt, and I do my best to wipe them away. She brings up her hands, and I crave for her to wrap them around me just like she used to, but instead, she presses against my chest and pushes me away.
Desperation gnaws at me. I’m not ready for this to end, and I grab her hand, not letting her go. “Don’t go,” I beg, feeling as though my whole fucking world will crumble if she walks away right now.
“Why?” she asks, those watery eyes piercing right through to my soul.
I pull her in close and tilt her face up to mine, her lips barely a breath away. “Because I can’t handle watching you walk away again, not tonight.”
Her eyes search mine, and I can’t resist her any longer. I drop my face to hers, closing the gap as I take her warm lips in mine in a passionate, needy kiss, bringing me home for the first time in five long months. Brianna melts into me, her arms locking around my neck as she kisses me back, a soft moan rumbling through her chest.
I deepen our kiss and hate that her cheeks are still wet from her tears, wishing I could be the man she needs me to be.
Brianna is home to me, and being with her right now feels like being welcomed back after a million years away, but I know it’s wrong. This is nothing more than a stolen moment that’s only going to make it so much harder to let go. I ended it, I broke her heart and left her empty, but still, I’m standing here asking to take from her again when I know I don’t deserve it.
I can handle hurting myself in order to touch her if only for a little while, but hurting her again is monstrous, and I should be ashamed of myself. Yet, I can’t find it within me to stop. I take her in like a drug I’ve been starved of, a desperate craving that needs to be satisfied, because without it, I know I would certainly die. And after all this time, she’s still my world.