Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Will.” Her voice is soft and sleepy.
“Yeah?” I don’t even know if she’s really awake, at least not until I see her eyes pop open. It’s too dark to see that beautiful color of green, but light enough that I know she’s staring at me.
I bend down a little closer, waiting for her to tell me what she needs, but it’s not words, it’s actions. She lifts her head, pulling mine closer with her hands behind my neck, and presses her lips to mine.
At first, I freeze, but her lips are soft and so damn sweet. The next thing I know, I’m kissing her back. She pulls me closer, and I go willingly. When she opens for me, I slide my tongue against hers, and she moans.
Fuck.
I have to stop this. She’s been drinking, and this isn’t her. She wouldn’t want this otherwise. I count to three before I force myself to pull away. My chest heaves with each labored breath I pull into my lungs.
“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “Oh my—I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice cracking. “I can’t believe— Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me,” she says on a sob. “Bellamy.” She sits up, panic written all over her face. “She’s going to hate me. Oh no, what have I done?” she cries.
“Hey.” I rest my palm against her cheek. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“Will, please don’t tell her. Please, you can’t. I can’t lose my best friend. Please,” she pleads.
I want to tell her that I have to tell Bellamy. I just got my daughter back, and if she found out that I lied to her about something like this, all that trust we’ve just built will be flushed down the drain, but it’s just the two of us here, and the sheer panic in her voice has me agreeing, because I never want to be the cause of her pain.
“Okay,” I say, my thumb catching the tears that roll down her cheeks. “It’s just us, Mandy,” I assure her. “It’s okay.”
“Do you hate me?” she asks, her voice small.
I sit on the bed, and this time, both hands cradle her cheeks. I wait for her gaze to find mine before I speak. “No, baby, I’m not mad at you.” I could never be mad at her. “It’s just between us. It’s all okay.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She nods and rests back on her pillow, causing my hands to fall to my lap. I adjust the covers, tucking her in. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” she whispers.
A part of me, a really big fucking part, was hoping she’d ask me to stay. This is it. Tonight is all I can allow myself to be with her like this, and the thought that I’ll never get to hold her tears at my chest. Out of nowhere, the intensity of what I feel for this woman has captured me, but this is all we can be.
So, I do something stupid. I lean down and press one last soft kiss to her lips. “Goodnight,” I whisper. She closes her eyes, and again, I find myself counting slowly to three before forcing myself to stand and walk out of her room. I make sure the house is locked up and put one foot in front of the other, taking steps toward my truck. Once inside, I sit for longer than I care to admit.
I don’t want to go.
Knowing I look like a damn stalker, I put the truck in Drive and head home. I don’t remember the drive, but I do remember the taste of her and the feeling of her soft lips pressed to mine.
Without a doubt, both are something I’ll never forget.
Twelve
Amanda
* * *
I slap my hand over my mouth as I try to stifle my laughter.
“I’m telling you. I laughed so hard I was crying,” Rowan says through sputters of her own laughter.
“Please tell me you got pictures?” Corie asks her sister-in-law.
“No, I was too busy laughing.”
“That’s one for the baby book for sure,” I tell her, and she nods her agreement.
“So, tell us again, I was laughing too hard the first time,” Sloane says, wiping tears from her eyes.
“What she said.” Eden nods. “It’s worth repeating.”
Rowan giggles like a schoolgirl and launches into her story for a second time. “Ella had been fussy all day. It was bedtime, and she needed a bath. Landry volunteered, the good daddy that he is, and instead of putting her in her tub, he just got into the shower with her. He’s done that a few times, claiming the skin-to-skin is good for her, and I’ll never tell him he’s right.” She grins.
“Anyway, so he’s in the shower holding her like she’s a little koala, talking to her in that ridiculous baby voice he pretends he doesn’t use. I’m in the bedroom folding laundry, and I can hear him narrating everything. ‘Okay, Princess, we wash the toes. We love the toes. The toes are fabulous.’”