Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Truthfully, I was more worried about how it would feel to not have a place in Dexter’s life. We both knew that space had to be cleared and priorities set. It was necessary, inevitable. And maybe that was why I couldn’t fathom that his mother would fuck up a chance for a front-row seat in her son’s life.
“I wish I could have ten children, Viggo. Won’t that be horrible and delightful? I don’t want a husband, though. Just kids. And cats. One per child. You’ll have to buy a bigger house, because we’re all going to come live with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Anni followed me as I crossed Main Street and headed for home. Leaves crunched underfoot and the woodpeckers responsible for hollowing out trees in the area pecked away noisily. My breath came in plumes, and my heart beat too fast.
Twenty-one years on Earth hadn’t been enough to harden Anni’s heart or limit her imagination. Forever hadn’t been a concept she’d attributed to love. She would have been overwhelmed by motherhood. On maudlin days, I found myself thinking how different life would have been if she was here…and if her baby had survived.
The “what-ifs” still haunted me. What could have been, should have been, and would never be. I’d become a sentry guarding old memories, clutching them like prayer cards—so focused on my grief and my solitude that I’d successfully warded off anything that wasn’t basic sex.
And now look what I’d done.
I was supposed to keep an eye on the father of Freya’s baby, as if I could protect them from the unknown. It was misguided and probably strange, but grief isn’t always reasonable. Nine months later, I was in over my head.
The cycle had started again. Different players, different roles, but this time the alternate ending would be a happier one for the people I cared about.
That’s good enough, I told myself. Good enough.
CHAPTER 29
DEXTER
My mother’s heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she sauntered to the bank of windows to peer out at the deck and the view of Lake Norman. I’d talked Viggo into carving a couple of jack-o’-lanterns with me to leave at the front door for trick-or-treaters last night. Mine was a traditional smiley faced one and his had a creepy mouth and bugged-out eyes. We’d left them on the picnic table to dry and taken the seeds inside to roast with salt and olive oil. Viggo had not been impressed.
“These are…blah, bland. Either we put more salt on them or dip them in chocolate,” he’d suggested, slipping one between my lips. “What’s it going to be?”
That question had been left unanswered. A vision of dropping to my knees and mouthing his cock through denim while he’d unbuckled his belt popped into my head. I’d blown him three feet from where my mother was standing now and—
Screech. So much for reliving that sexy moment.
I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door and tugged at the string at my neck. I couldn’t do anything about the white face makeup or red lips, but the cape felt like overkill. I mean, it had been surreal enough giving my mother a tour of the kitchen and walking with her down Main Street while dressed as Dracula, but like it or not, we needed to have a serious conversation.
“Your home is quaint,” she finally said, hands clasped as she moved to the island. “Lovely view.”
“Thanks.”
“The town is also quite…”
“Quaint?” I offered.
“Yes. And simple. It reminds me of a Jimmy Stewart movie. The Christmas one where he meets an angel.” She snapped her fingers, willing her sharp mind to conjure the title. “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“I like it here. It’s a nice place, and I’ve met some great people.”
My mother hummed, her gaze scanning every inch of the kitchen with a slight curl of distaste at the corner of her mouth. “That’s nice, dear.”
“But…what? It’s not like you to hold back, Mom. What do you really think?” I challenged testily.
Mom crossed her arms and sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what to think, Dexter. As I said, this is a nice town, but it’s very small. Is this what you want for your child? A small life?”
“Mom…” I massaged my neck, dreading the uncomfortable conversation ahead.
“Before you say another word, I have something for you.” She dug through her Hermes bag and handed me an envelope.
I studied it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“A gift.”
I unsealed the envelope and pulled out a legal document. “What the—”
“It’s a lease agreement…for your donut shop. I did some research and ran the numbers on your charming enterprise here and darling, it’s a perfect fit for home. I still own that building on Kercheval and of course, it’ll be yours one day, but in the meantime, I’ll lease it to you at a discounted rate.”