Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Her chest rattles with laughter again. “Where would I be if you weren’t here to keep me on track when it comes to him?”
“He’s a fascinating man. Books should be written about him.”
“I heard there was a billboard once.”
Chuckling, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the porch, which is another project I mentally add to the endless to-do list of this house. “Ah. The infamous billboard.” Glancing at her, I ask, “How’d you know about that?”
“Word gets around these parts.”
I narrow my eyes at her, not sure that would be something she’d hear recently. “It’s old news.”
“It’s new news to me.” She reaches over and doodles on my arm. When I shift my gaze to the ceiling again, two of her fingers travel up my arm, then down onto my chest, where she scrapes her nails lightly across a spot before gently rubbing to soothe it. “Will you tell me about it?”
“The god among men was much more interesting.” I roll my head to the side and look into her eyes. I discover something new every time I see them. This time is no different, but it’s something I probably shouldn’t have noticed after what happened earlier between us—a future together. The subtle change in green, caught between the electric and the sage, settles in on softened marine that has me craving to dive into her again. I blink several times to clear this urgent pull I have to her as if we’ve become latched together and destiny is cranking the winch.
Draping my arm over my closed eyes, I start to realize how much I care what Cricket thinks, how much I love hearing her speak, the sound of her laughter, and how she looks at me. I realize how much I care about her.
Tethered . . .
“The moment I saw him, I knew he’d be the father of my kids—”
“What?” I’m wide fucking awake and have been dropped right back the fuck into reality. “What do you mean you knew I’d be the father of your kids?”
Cackling, she wraps her arms over her stomach. “I thought I was losing you, so I thought I’d hook you back into the story.”
I relax on the exhale of a heavy breath. “I was here.”
“You sure?” A dose of sympathy echoes through her expression. “You looked like you either drifted off to sleep or your thoughts had wandered off.” Lifting onto her elbow, she says, “I can go if you want?”
Reaching over, I graze my hand across her shoulder. “No. I don’t want that at all. I’m listening.” I manage a smile despite the hurricane of emotions destroying any reasonable thought I might be having. It’s been a week, not even. I shouldn’t feel this strongly about her. It’s too soon. Too fast.
But a niggling at the back of my mind is quick to remind me that this is four years in the making. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love with the mother of my child.
Love . . .
Holy shit.
I’m thirty-fucking-five. Love isn’t something I’ve ever recklessly fallen into. With Cricket, though, I’m caught in her quicksand with no way to survive from going under. Shit. I swallow, the sound louder than intended. She glances at my throat and then higher, and asks, “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Totally fine. Never better.” I clamp my mouth shut to stop the bleeding, but it might be too late. She’s already onto me.
“Griffin?”
“Yeah?” She doesn’t say anything, but she does stare like I’ve morphed into an alien. “What is it?”
As if she’s holding her breath, she doesn’t blink. And then her body depletes when she releases the next one. “What’s going on? I can tell something’s wrong. Talk to me. Please.”
What do I say? I’m having a midlife crisis because I might have fallen in love with her. Fuck. That’s not even true. I’m lying to myself. There was no might have involved. I’ve fallen for her. Whoa! That’s heavy stuff right there. “Nothing’s wrong.” I lie again, this time to her. Fuck. The dam’s been broken, and the lies flood like water from my tongue.
This is ridiculous. Why am I acting like this is a bad thing? It’s Cricket. She’s incredible. I’d be lucky if she felt the same. I force myself to look her in the eyes, for her benefit and mine, when I say, “Tomorrow’s Sunday—”
“Technically, it’s already Sunday.” Her smile is softer, her lids even starting to fade with the early morning hour.
“Right.” I roll to my side to face her, and because I like looking at her in our bed, this bed I made for her. “I wanted to see if you and Jacob wanted to come over and we could spend some time together.”
There’s that night bloom of a gorgeous, flowering smile. “I’d like that very much.” When her gaze drops to the floral sheet between us, she pauses but then looks back up as if she’s talked herself into something. “Do you mind if I ask him if that’s what he’d like to do? I promised we’d spend the day together. I don’t want him to think that I—”