Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Welcome home,” I say, and she turns to glance at me over her shoulder.
“Macklin, hey, it’s good to be home.” She turns and opens her arms for a hug, and I step into her embrace, inhaling her scent, hoping she doesn’t notice.
The hug is far too short for my liking. “How’s New York?” I ask her.
She clears her throat. “New York is… in the past,” she says, her voice soft.
I take a step closer. “Is everything okay?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. She’s nervous, and I’m concerned. There’s this part of me that needs to know what happened, and why she’s home for good. This is where she belongs, preferably with me at her side, but one step at a time.
“Yeah, of course,” she’s quick to answer.
I take another step toward her. This time, I place my back to the room, hiding her from view. “Are you okay, Baylor?” My tone is gentle, willing her to open up to me.
“Yeah, you know, if okay means quitting my job in an email, packing up my life into the back of a rental car, and driving straight through the night for thirteen hours to get here. Totally okay.” She nods, her voice cracking.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure that we’re not drawing attention. Everyone is focused on the parents-to-be, so I turn back to Baylor. “Did he hurt you?” I ask, my voice low and threatening. There is nowhere he can hide if he laid his hands on her. My eyes rake over the parts that I can see, scanning for injuries.
Baylor reaches out and places her hand on my chest. Instantly, I lift my own and settle it over hers, keeping her there. “I’m okay, Macklin,” she assures me, and I feel the tension slowly start to drain from not only her words but her touch.
“You know, I climbed on the back of two-thousand-pound pissed-off bulls for a living, right? I can take him.”
That makes her laugh, and I want to pat myself on the back. “Calm down there, cowboy,” she teases. “Todd and I just grew apart. Things have been off with us for a long time. Last night—no, wait, Friday night, my days and nights are a blur right now, he showed me a side of him that I didn’t like.”
“What did he do?” I want to pull her into my arms and hold her, but I keep one hand clasped over hers, resting against my chest, and the other firmly at my side.
She shakes her head. “He didn’t hurt me. Not like you’re thinking.” She peers up at me under long lashes, those big blue eyes willing me to believe her. I hold her stare, and finally, she cracks. “He had a vasectomy and didn’t tell me,” she whispers. “I haven’t told my sisters. I didn’t want to ruin the day,” she says, her eyes flashing beside us, but I’m blocking her view.
“Fucking moron,” I mutter. Her eyes widen. “Baylor, any man who says he doesn’t want to have babies with you—” I shake my head. I can’t even finish the thought because it’s impossible.
“Thank you for saying that. The worst part is that we talked about kids and what happens in the future, but three weeks ago, he lied and said he had a business trip. Instead, he got snipped and checked into a hotel for the weekend.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. I am. I’m sorry that he hurt her. I never want that for her. Never.
She shrugs. “Finding the proof pushed me to make a choice, one I should have made years ago. We drifted apart. He became his job. I no longer had a place in his life outside of picking up after him and grabbing his dry cleaning,” she says, before her eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to unload on you. I’m still a little salty, I guess.”
“Let it all out,” I tell her. “I can take it.”
She smiles again. “Thanks, Macklin.” She leans sideways to peer around me. “We’d better go. They’re starting gifts.” She moves her hand, which means I have to move mine to let her go.
I don’t want to release her. Not now. Not ever. But wanting and doing aren’t always the same thing, and right now, doing means letting her walk away, at least for a little while. So, I step back.
She slips past me without brushing my arm, without even a glance, like whatever just passed between us didn’t tilt my entire world a few degrees off balance. I turn anyway, because I can’t not watch her. I never could.
She finds her place beside Sophia, folding into the rhythm of the party. She’s home where she belongs. Her laugh drifts across the room a second later, light and effortless, and it hits me square in the chest. Ellison and Copeland are up front, tearing into wrapping paper, everyone’s attention pulled toward them, but mine stays fixed on her.