Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Oh, by the way,” Callie says, “you got a delivery.”
I frown, not sure what would have been delivered.
Then I remember that Hunter overnighted me a box of my jams. I hold up my hand. “Don’t eat that toast yet. I have just the thing for it.”
I stumble to the front door to find a small cardboard box on the porch steps. I lift it, noting that none of the jars make a sound, which means Hunter must have followed my packaging instructions perfectly.
As I step into the threshold, I hear the distinct sound of an engine.
I glance over my shoulder to see a sports car a few hundred feet from the house. It doesn’t look like it belongs here. But this time of year, there are so many guys coming and going from the Naughty List Ranch that I don’t pay too much attention.
Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll find their way to Mary and Christopher when they need to. I close the door behind me with my boot and walk into the kitchen.
“What do you have there?” Callie asks, sipping from her own mug.
I set the box on the kitchen island and grab my pocketknife. I step back so she can examine what’s inside.
She peers into the box. “Jam.”
She lifts out a glass jar with a pretty simple label that reads strawberry. “Who made these?”
“Me,” I answer, feeling a rush of pride. I like seeing my jars clutched in her hands, and I really like the look of awe on her face right now. “These jams are from fruit I grew on my farm. When I lived on the Naughty List Ranch, Mary made fantastic jams. I started using her recipes and improving them a couple of years ago. I have them just about perfect.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, mister,” she says and pops the top off the jam.
She puts a spoonful in her mouth and lets out a groan that has me getting hard because all I want to do is tackle her and slide into her wet heat.
“I’d like to sell my jams,” I explain. “I want to pair them with the perfect pastries. Maybe biscuits or something. I tried to hire a baker, but I haven’t found anyone for the job.”
She looks like she’s about to say something, but there’s a knock on the door. I think of the fancy sports car I saw earlier.
“I’ll get that,” she says, and sashays out of the room.
I watch her hips move. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that perfect sway. I follow her into the living room just in time for her to swing the door open.
She gasps at the man standing on the front porch. He’s wearing an expensive suit, something bespoke if I had to guess. He definitely looks out of place standing there.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, at the same time I demand, “Who the hell are you?”
The man steps into the living room uninvited and looks at Callie with a smirk.
“I’m her husband,” he says, full of confidence and swagger.
I don’t believe this bastard for a second. Callie is nothing like my ex-girlfriend. There’s not a lying bone in her body.
Callie’s gaze instantly snaps to mine, concern on her face. “We are divorced.”
“I know that,” I tell her, my own voice ringing with quiet confidence.
I can hear the sounds of Danny’s laughter and Rudy’s nails clicking on the floor in the kitchen. I’m glad he’s not old enough to see this or hear it. I’m glad that Rudy is in there with him, standing guard over his new friend.
Callie turns her attention back to Corey, pointing with her index finger. “You know we’re not together anymore.”
“If that’s true, then I want my rings back.”
Her voice shakes with righteous outrage. “The wedding band and engagement ring were mine since you gifted them to me. As it was my property, I sold them to pay the hospital bills for the birth of my son who you abandoned.”
This fucker has a set on him. Callie told me he’s never called to check on his son or how he’s doing. The way he could just walk out on his wife and child is disgusting.
“You’re a lying cunt,” Corey says.
I grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall so hard his head bounces off of it.
In a voice that’s cold steel, I ask, “What did you just call my woman?”
“Do you have any idea how much that jewelry was worth?” he wheezes.
“Do you know how little your life is worth to me?” I counter. I’ve never been prone to violence without good reason, and this monster I’m holding, well, his existence is good reason enough.
“You wouldn’t—”
“You, dumb fuck. You don’t get it. I’ve searched my whole life for a woman as amazing as Callie. I’d never let her slip through my fingers.”