Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“I need to go.” She lunges away from me and opens the laundry room door.
I lean my back against the wall, collecting my thoughts and giving her time to leave. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to see me right now.
Though I secretly hope that’s not true and she’ll be standing in the other room smiling and waiting to watch me and Tate wrestle. By the time I open the door and walk out of the laundry room, she and the boys are gone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cam
I hoped scarfing my peanut butter protein bar in the break room instead of at my desk would make me feel like I took a lunch break today, but it didn’t. Working through lunch is necessary today so I can leave early enough to pick Sam up from his Cub Scouts meeting.
And really, lunch breaks aren’t going so well this week anyway. I’ve been spending most of my free time thinking about my conversation with Rowan a few days ago.
When I saw how jealous he was of Harrison and how hurt he was when I told him he was not a wise choice for me, I wanted to give in to my attraction to him. All I could think about was dropping the towel folding and asking him to kiss me.
That’s the old Cam, leading with my heart instead of my head.
“Did you catch the Coyotes game last night?”
The mention of Rowan’s team between Marco Hahn, an associate attorney at the firm, and Tom Caldera catches my attention.
“Yeah, I caught a few minutes of it,” Tom says.
“Griff Carrington’s a stud. Now we just need a defender who can get down the ice in less than five minutes.”
“What was the final score?”
“They lost 4-1. Most of our team looked like they just woke up. Fucking embarrassing.”
A surge of defensiveness rises in me. I want to stand up and tell Marco he has no idea what he’s talking about, even though I didn’t even watch the game. How would he like it if he was televised while working in his office, the whole world able to critique his every move? No allowances for a bad day. Never a mistake that wasn’t called out by people who couldn’t do this job no matter how hard they tried.
Dom would say that comes with playing at the highest level of the game, and Rowan would say the same thing. I still don’t like the way Marco talks about the players on the team like they’re not humans.
“How’s it going, Cam?” Tom asks me.
“Good. How are Jeannie and the kids?”
He’s back to looking like he hasn’t slept in days now that his in-laws went back home. He fell asleep during a staff meeting yesterday, but since we all know how sleep-deprived he is, no one woke him up.
“Hanging in there. Jeannie really loves those tops you sent. Thanks again.”
I still had several nursing tank tops that Tess wore when she was pregnant and passed on to me when I was, so I gave them to Tom after Jeannie had the triplets.
“I’m glad she likes them.”
He glances at his watch and stands up. “Time to slam an energy drink and get to court.”
“Good luck.”
“Lacey’s going to be there with me. I told her to pinch me really hard if I start falling asleep.”
Lacey is his paralegal, and she’s got a mean streak. I imagine she’s hoping she’ll get to pinch him. I can’t help smiling as I picture it.
“Power through,” I tell him as I leave the room.
I could use an early afternoon jolt of caffeine myself, but I resist the urge, filling up my water bottle instead. I’m already having trouble sleeping at night, so no caffeine after 10:00 a.m. for me.
When I’m lying awake at night, staring at the dark ceiling, I replay Rowan telling me he loves Sam and Tate. He meant it in the way people say they love a song or a menu item from Taco Bell. Not love love. Not what I meant when I said I love hard.
And that’s all I’ll take for me and my boys. It’s either the full-throated, messy, sometimes difficult but always worth it kind of love--or nothing. No more half measures. No more men who are all talk.
“Cam!” I’m walking from the water cooler back to my desk when Lila calls my name from her desk.
I turn around and return to the petite administrative assistant’s desk. She blows her dark bangs up and out of her eyes, looking frazzled.
“Can you grab these deliveries? I can’t leave the desk because there’s no one here to cover me.”
She gets up from her chair and turns to the counter-height wood credenza behind her desk. My lips part when she picks up a vase with two dozen beautiful red roses and sets it down in front of me.