Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“It’s what we do.”
“You’re Suzette, Hug, in a different way. Just livin’ until you die.”
That hit so close to the bone, he could feel the blade scraping.
“We gotta talk about it,” Big Petey announced.
He found his breath on that because he knew what Pete wanted to talk about.
And that wasn’t going to happen.
“No, we don’t.”
“I’ve left it too long. I’m too old. Slowin’ down. I need to sort this for Jackie before I kick it.”
He didn’t like Pete talking about kicking it either.
“Pete—”
“Not now. Too much happening now. Later,” Pete said as Hugger heard the sliding glass door open behind him.
He twisted to see Diana back in her loose shorts and Diamondbacks tee. The mess of hair on her head was listing off to one side. Her eyes were sleepy. Her gait was shuffling as she made her way to him.
And she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
He froze solid as she came right in, fit herself to his back, and he felt her press her cheek there as she wound her arms around his middle.
It was the sweetest touch he’d ever had.
Good Christ.
“Hug?” Big Petey called.
“Diana’s up,” he grunted.
“Right. We’ll leave it there. Though, warning, we’re picking it up later. See you in a few.”
“See you,” he pushed out, and the call ended.
He put his mug on the railing and carefully turned in Diana’s arms.
She allowed this, then pressed to his front.
“It’s super early and you’ve obviously been up awhile,” she mumbled, even her voice sweet and sleepy. “We need to go out and get an air mattress for you.”
He shoved his phone in his back pocket, then he took her by her upper arms and gently but firmly set her away from him.
She blinked up at him, her face fell, and his gut lurched at seeing it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the sleepy gone, horrified in its place. “So sorry. I thought yesterday…you touching my face, holding my hand, watching the movies…I thought…I…” She shook her head hard, making that clutch of thick hair bounce. “I thought wrong and I’m so sorry. That had to be weird for you.”
Hugger found his mouth saying, “I don’t like to be touched and I’m not affectionate.”
“Okay. Yeah.” She nodded her head fast and repeatedly. “Again, I’m sorry.” She was looking anywhere but at him. “I’m just gonna go—”
“Diana.”
Her eyes skated across his face and fastened on his ear.
“Babe, look at me,” he said softly.
It took visible effort for her to meet his gaze.
She looked uncomfortable, mortified, like she wanted to be a million miles away from him.
And he couldn’t stand it.
Any of it, but especially the last part.
He bent to her, caught her chin between his thumb and finger, and whispered, “I’m a problem you don’t need.”
“What?” she whispered back.
“I got shit no good woman needs laid on her.”
“What shit?”
“Shit I was born with.” Fuck him, he was giving it to her. “Shit that made me.”
“Harlan—”
“You got enough to deal with, you can’t be taking on my shit.”
“Can you give me a hint what your shit is?”
“I already did.”
“I don’t—” The haze of sleep and mortification cleared, and her brows snapped together. “You mean your mom?”
He had to stop touching her, but he couldn’t do it without running his thumb along the line of her jaw.
So he didn’t.
Then he said, “Fuck no, Di. But think on that.”
“Think on what?”
“Who’s my daddy?”
Her head jerked and she asked, “Do you know?”
“Met him once, once was enough, but I know who he was. All of who he was.”
“Then does it matter?”
Her words felt like a lance went clean through him, so he couldn’t reply.
She threw up both hands. “Who’s my daddy?”
“Di,” he choked out.
“So, okay, he’s making an effort now. But I’m twenty-nine years old, Harlan. I’m grateful for that effort, and I’ve decided to explore it, but that’s a long time to have a dad who expected me to be his brand of perfection from top to toe, to intellect, to personality, and live with falling short and disappointing him time after time. A dad who cheated on my mom, broke her heart, and I had to watch. But even if he cheated on her, he acted like she had some horrific defect and was beneath him, and me, and everybody. A dad who didn’t have a lot growing up, and wasn’t a big fan of that, so he pulled out all the stops to give himself, and yeah, me, more. But that meant I was raised by nannies and babysitters and—”
She was winding herself up way too tight with this shit.
So he ordered, “Stop it, honey.”
“Do you want to know why I went balls to the wall to get Suzette in my house?”
Unh-unh.
Hell no.
They couldn’t go there.
“Don’t give me that,” he growled.
“So you guessed already that I was trigged and why.”
Hugger said nothing.