Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Ahh, Tim. The ex she dumped before her staycation—and clearly one of those dudes who cannot take a fucking hint when a woman dumps him.
I stare at him.
He stares at me.
I lean against the doorframe. “Who are you again?”
“Tim.”
I knew that. Just want to hear him repeat it.
“Is she here?”
I nod, still holding up the door. Not budging. “Yup.”
Tim blinks at me, ears turning a delightful shade of red.
God, this is so fun!
“She’s . . . Is she busy?”
“On the phone with Lucy,” I say.
He clears his throat. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.”
“Right. So what are you? Here to fix the sink?”
Ha. “That’s hilarious—I don’t know a goddamn thing about plumbing.” Not that kind of plumbing anyway . . .
“Her new boyfriend?”
I let that hang a beat.
“Nope,” I say levelly. Calmly. “I’m her husband.”
“Her what?”
I have to give the guy credit—his eyes don’t bug out of his skull the way I was hoping they would.
He shakes his head, thinking surely he’d misheard me. “I’m sorry, I just hallucinated. I thought you said you were her husband.”
“I did.”
“You can’t be—she dumped me two weeks ago.”
Jackpot. I squint down at him. “How can you be her boyfriend if she dumped you two weeks ago?”
Tim’s eye twitches as he flounders for a response, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water. “W-we . . . I thought she needed space.”
I smirk. “She needed something, all right.”
My big ol’ Scottish dick.
When his ears go redder, I resist the urge to fist pump. Score!
Then a feminine throat clears behind me and Annabelle steps up, nudging me aside so she can take my place in the doorway. “Tim, what are you doing here?”
He thrusts the coffee at her like it’s some sort of olive branch, eyeballing me the entire time. “I thought we could talk.”
“We already did,” she replies with a chill icy enough to have little Timmy Ding Dong stepping back, but she still takes his peace offering or whatever the fuck the coffee is meant to represent.
He snorts. “I didn’t think you’d rebound so fast.”
“She didn’t,” I cut in, smiling like a lion surrounded by his domain. “We eloped. That’s not a rebound, that’s a commitment.”
Boom! Mic drop!
Annabelle rolls her eyes. “Technically it’s not legal, but . . .”
“Hey!” I’m personally affronted by her truth. “Don’t go raining on my parade in front of your ex-boyfriend. That’s bad marriage etiquette.”
Tim’s jaw drops again. “You guys seriously got married?”
Annabelle shrugs one shoulder. “It was more of a spontaneous vow exchange, officiated by someone named Pastor Dan, officially the other bride’s cousin.”
The other bride. I snicker. Ahh, the memories . . .
“Real classy, Annabelle,” Tim deadpans as if disgusted.
I nod. “Thank you.”
Annabelle smothers a laugh before fixing Tim with a look. “I think we’re done here.”
“But I—”
“She said we’re done,” I repeat with authority, stepping in to make my presence a wall between them. I am husband. I am not Tim.
“I just don’t think it’s fair that—”
“Oh my God, dude, she broke up with you,” I say slowly—like I’m explaining gravity to a toddler. “You don’t get to do the whole grand gesture thing after you’ve already blown your shot.”
And probably your load.
Tim wants to argue—mouth opening again, fingers twitching around the poor, neglected coffee in his weak hand—but then he clocks the way I’m standing.
Solid.
Immovable.
Blocking his view of her like it’s my damn job.
Because it is.
“You don’t even know her,” he tries again, more desperate this time because clearly, Timmy doesn’t like losing.
I shrug. “No, but I’m married to her. So.”
I smile. Goddamn, this is satisfying . . .
Tim stares at me like he’s trying to summon the confidence of a man twice his size.
“Annabelle,” he pleads pathetically. “We were good together. There was a time you said I made you feel safe.”
“She said you made her feel bored,” I toss back to twist the knife.
Annabelle coughs beside me—possibly a laugh—but doesn’t correct me.
Tim’s face reddens all the way to his hairline. “You’re just, what, some rebound jock with a hero complex?”
“Totally.” I laugh. “Technically a married rebound jock with a hero complex.” I hold up my ring finger.
He lets out an exasperated noise and turns to her one last time. “You’re seriously choosing him?”
She doesn’t say anything for several moments. Just regards me as if looking for that same support my friends and teammates rely on—that one that’s steady and calm.
Then she nods. “Yeah. I am choosing him.”
I pat Tim on the arm, giving him a double tap of sympathy. “Tough break, bud.”
He hates me. Detests me in that instant and probably wants to plant me a facer but knows I’d crush him. Not that I blame him; I wouldn’t confront me either.
He stares like he wants to throw the coffee at my chest and run, but instead he swallows his pride—and probably a little bile—and slinks off down the hallway with the saddest coffee in the tristate area. I watch him toss it into the trash can near the parking structure, waiting until he’s disappeared around the corner before I close the door with a soft, satisfying click.