Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I curse.
And answer.
Do not mention your peanut, bro.
I smile.
“Hi,” Dan says when I give him nothing. “I came to your place today.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, something came up.” I settle back, taking another suck of my finger. “Why don’t we cut out the meet and you just tell me what you want?” I can’t help my hostility, but he’s the one who set the tone for our relationship.
“I want to apologize.”
My eyebrows shoot up so fast, they nearly leave my face and hit the ceiling. “What?” And what is he sorry for, I wonder, because the list is endless. Disrespecting me, disrespecting my wife, upsetting her on her wedding day, telling tales, bitching to Ava’s parents, being hostile toward my friends . . .
“You’re going to make me say it?”
“You haven’t actually said it. You said you wanted to say it.”
“I apologize.”
He sounds about as sorry as I am. Not sorry. “For what?” I need to shut the fuck up and accept. Get him off my back, but then there’s Kate. Sam. This guy has breezed back into town and caused a shitstorm at every turn. And now he’s sorry? I’m not buying it.
“I was worried about my sister,” he says.
And that was before this raging alcoholic barbarian got her pregnant. “And you’re not worried now?”
“She obviously loves you.”
I hum. She’s pregnant.
“Look,” he goes on. “I’d really like it if we could meet up.”
What, for coffee and a chat? She’s pregnant. I bite my tongue. It’s fucking hard. Dan and I will never be best mates, so where the fuck is this going? “You want to meet up?” I’m so fucking curious. It feels like he’s got something to share. As have I. She’s pregnant.
“Yes.”
“Right,” I say slowly. “I’m a bit busy this week. I’ll call you.” I hang up and chomp on my lip, my mind racing for a minute before my phone’s ringing again. “Ava’s pregnant,” I blurt to the room, needing to release the buildup of words before I answer to John. I’m not sure how I’m going to tell him. I know I’m in for a royal dressing down, and I’m not in the mood for that now. “Hi,” I say when I answer.
“Alive?”
“Very much alive.”
“Where did you go?”
“Just a small something to deal with.”
“Ava’s brother showed up.”
“Did you let him in? Offer him tea? A tour?”
“No, but he was quite curious about the truckload of sex furniture that showed up.”
“Oh fuck.”
“It’s fine,” John says. “I diverted him.”
“He just called me. I was supposed to meet him.”
“What for?”
“Not a fucking clue. Something’s not right.”
John hums. “I saw that Owen guy hanging around the gates when I left earlier.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“No, why would I?”
Doesn’t hurt to talk to them. John’s words. The silence stretches, me waiting for John to speak, John waiting for me. Except I’m not sure what’s the right thing to say. “John?”
“Want to talk to him?”
I inhale, chewing my lip. “Doesn’t hurt to talk, right?”
“Right.”
Is John tired of The Manor and all the drama it brings too? “Do you want to start the process?”
“Sure, I’ll start the process.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you here tomorrow?”
“Yeah. See you then.” I hang up and sink down into the couch. “We’re just talking,” I say to the empty room.
“Who is?”
I look up and see Ava at the top of the stairs in her knickers and a T-shirt. “Nothing. No one.” I get up and go to her, collecting her and attaching her to my front.
“I can walk, you know.”
“I know,” I reply, carrying her into the kitchen. I place her on the counter and dip, getting up close to her tummy. “Time to feed you.”
“What about me?” she pipes up, injured.
“I suppose I ought to feed you too.”
I get a smack on my bicep for my trouble, and I laugh, seizing her and kissing her hard. “Unravel your knickers, lady.”
She holds my face and kisses me everywhere she can. “It’s you who tangles them in the first place.”
My phone chimes, and I reach for it, my eyebrows raising as I read John’s message. Tomorrow at ten. Fuck, they’re keen. My heart turns in my chest, and I try to push the feeling of guilt away. Just talking. It doesn’t hurt to talk.
“What is it?” Ava asks.
Her concern snaps me back into line. “Nothing. Just John about a meeting tomorrow.”
“So you’re at work tomorrow?” she asks.
“Might be.”
She smiles knowingly. “Do you know something, My Lord?”
“What?” I ask, my face bunched as she puts her lips all over it.
“I feel very lucky.”
I open my eyes, surprised. This is interesting. I wait for her to elaborate, my curiosity raging. Her palms stroke across my chest, her head tilting in admiration from time to time, appearing in no rush to feed my interest. “Go on,” I prompt, impatient.
“Sometimes you drive me crazy,” she says quietly.