Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You wanna talk shit, you do it to me. Wes, think about the problems you have right now. I’ve got a check inside for your wedding but saw you with another woman, and fuck, Coop even said you brought the same woman to his restaurant, and he thought nothing of it until I told him what I saw. The next time you think cheating isn’t going to hurt every person involved, keep it off the fuckin’ streets.” That doesn’t calm the fire in his face. If anything, it amplifies the utter meanness in his facial expression.
“You’ve got no room to talk, fucking my girlfriend. Now you’re trying to tell me how to live my life? No way. Take your money and your love and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. I may not be perfect, but at least I don’t sleep with people half my damn age.” Trace’s body locks up tight behind me. He’s going to say something, but I beat him to it.
“Wes, what we did wasn’t okay. Why do you think I ran away? That being said, two wrongs don’t make a right. Learn from your mistakes, don’t keep hurting innocent women. That’s not fair for them or for you.” He’s not listening. My words are going in one ear and out the other. That really sucks, too, because I think down to the heart of him, he’s a good guy.
“Wesley, I love you. You’re the best part of me, but I think it’s best you go on home. Cool off. I will, too, okay? We’ll talk another day.” I can hear the turmoil in Trace’s voice. This is killing him. God, how he’s able to stay composed is beyond me. If I were in his shoes, I’d be bawling my eyes out or hitting Wes in the face, repeatedly, maybe a bit of both at the same time.
“I don’t need or want your advice. What I do in my partnership is not yours. For all you know, Raquel and I have an open relationship.” Oh my God, he did not just say that, and his fiancée did not just walk up behind him.
“Wes.” Utter despair ravages her face, and tears are streaming down her cheeks. We were so lost in our own battle, no one saw her walk up. I didn’t try to shield her from this.
“Fuck,” Trace whispers behind me. Wes turns around, and we watch this unfold without a single word. The two of them are talking yet not, and I watch as the heartbreak carries across the driveway.
“Raquel, let me explain,” Wes tries to weasel himself out of the circumstance. How he thinks there’s anything to explain is anyone’s guess, judging by the way Raquel looks, nothing good is going to come from this conversation.
“How long, Wes?” she asks. He doesn’t respond. “I said how long?”
“Raquel, I promise it’s not what you think. Let’s go talk somewhere.” Pretty sure nothing that comes from Wes’s mouth is not going to happen.
“No. No freaking way. I don’t ever want to see you again.” Raquel spins around, ready to take off. I’m unsure how she got here or where she’s going; all I know is Raquel will need a shoulder to cry on. Plus, I don’t want her to think Trace or anyone would purposely keep this from her.
“Let me go, Trace. Someone needs to be with her right now, and I don’t think it should be Wes.” His lips drop to my ear, and he grazes them with a kiss, squeezing me to his body once before letting me take off after Raquel.
“Babe, you come back to me, or I’m going after you. You’ll be in my bed tonight, nowhere else,” he states, and I know down to the depths of my soul he means every word.
“I will, promise.” I shoulder-check Wes, knocking him back on his heels, wishing I’d hit him hard enough for him to fall flat on his back and maybe knock some sense into his thick-ass head.
28
TRACE
“What a fucking clusterfuck,” I tell Coop as he steps out of his truck after our phone call once Wes admitted defeat. Josie is still with Raquel. She used what I’m assuming is now my ex-soon-to-be-daughter-in-law’s phone, telling me she’s at Raquel’s, which happens to be a couple of streets away. Apparently, when she walked into the war where blood was being shed in my driveway and garage, it was to pick up the check for the event coordinator. Wes called her earlier that day and asked if she wouldn’t mind swinging by to pick it up. Needless to say, she picked up a shit ton more.
“No kidding, and now we both don’t have our women. May as well drink a beer. Who knows how long this will take.” Gia demanded that Coop take her to Raquel’s, grumbling about women need women and how women support women. So, that’s where we’re at as it slowly hit dark. No way will either of us let them walk back to my place either, which means when we finally get the call, we can’t be shit-faced hammered, even if that sounds like a good idea right about now.