Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I also couldn’t wait to eat, and the people at the start line said that there’d be spaghetti and pancakes after the race.
An awful wheezing sounded behind me, and I looked back to see fit girl running hard.
With a smile on my face, I pushed myself to my limits, causing Lottie to squeal in joy and excitement.
I could see a runner finishing up ahead, and I focused on the finish line.
We crossed, causing Lottie to laugh in delight as we crossed over the bumps that concealed the wires that determined your time with your timing chip.
“Fifth place male finisher, Gunner Penn with a time of two-thirty-five-fifty-three!”
I hurriedly moved out of the way for the woman that I could hear pounding my way.
She crossed the finish line and started to collapse almost the second that she crossed over.
I caught her before her knees could hit the unforgiving concrete.
“First place female finisher, Sutton Sway with a time of two-thirty-five-fifty-nine!”
Shock tore through my system.
“Sutton?” I asked in confusion.
Just as fast as the shock tore through me at seeing her again, anger followed.
She’d done something to her face.
She looked nothing like the unique woman that I’d once known.
Three
I’m sorry if I offended you by using facts and logic.
—Sutton’s secret thoughts
SUTTON
“Pause.” I gasped for air. “My.” Another gasp. “Watch.”
He reached down and hit every button there was on my watch before it paused.
I noticed then that he had no watch of his own.
Hell, I’d been watching him for the last six miles once I realized who he was.
He barely looked like he’d been running at all.
“Daddy!” a little girl—his little girl—screamed. “Down!”
But if he let the little girl down, he’d have to let me go, and if he did that, I was going to hit the ground because my legs were no longer working.
He hauled me to the side where there was a low bench to sit on just shy of the finish line, and plopped me down onto it.
He whirled the stroller around to face me, and I got my first good look at his little girl.
She was gorgeous.
And she looked a whole lot like his son, Jett.
Rocky and I didn’t talk very much about Gunner.
Not because I was mad at him, or because he was a bad person. But because Rocky always had her head in the clouds, and unless that person was directly in front of her, she didn’t think about them at all.
I knew it had something to do with her ADHD, which was why I barely remembered bringing Gunner up.
But no one had to bring Gunner up at all when his son had passed away.
It was the talk of our small town.
The poor man had lost his entire world before his life had gotten started.
I’d cried my eyes out when I’d heard that Jett had passed away.
I’d been training for the Olympics at the time and hadn’t been able to make it home for the funeral—my coach at the time was a complete dick.
I hadn’t realized that Gunner had another child, though.
Damn Rocky and her ADHD for not letting me know.
Not that I really felt like I had the right to know or anything. Gunner and I had only ever been acquaintances at best.
Sometimes we shared the same awards at sporting events in our male and female events.
“Hi!” the little girl with the curly blonde hair like her daddy’s chirped. “Want some?”
She held out a completely smashed donut hole, and I smiled before replying breathlessly, “No, honey. You eat that. I’ll get something when I’m done resting.”
She popped it in her mouth, and I watched as the glaze from her donut hole fell all over her lap.
Damn, she was a cute little thing.
She had the same eyes and dimples as her father, too.
Just like Jett had.
The poor man.
I’d bet it hurt like hell to look at the little girl sometimes. I’d met Jett a handful of times, but the kid was damn near the most adorable thing I’d ever met in my life.
Though, it turns out Gunner’s other child was getting a close second.
“Here.”
Gunner appeared moments later with a water bottle, a chocolate milk, two white cups with forks in them, and two plates with waffles and syrup on them.
“Whoa,” I said as I took the chocolate milk. “I can’t eat that.”
“Why not?” he asked, sounding mad.
I grimaced. “Because if I eat it, I’ll throw up. I just spent the last two and a half hours busting my a—butt trying to keep up with you.”
He nodded. “Understandable. I’ll leave it right here for when you’re ready.”
He took the seat beside me and started to idly crack his fingers, starting with the pinky on one hand and ending with the pinky on the other. “What are you doing in Dallas?”
I scratched the back of my neck, feeling the dried sweat there. “I got a divorce. And that town is too small for the both of us.”