Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Or maybe Jeff had shown me how awful the people who claimed to love you could really be to the point that Truett didn’t seem so bad anymore.
The thought made guilt churn in my stomach. There was no comparison between a monster and a man.
I tugged on the hem of my stupid shorts, trying to make the legs the same length. Anything for a distraction. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for that. It’s not your responsibility to keep me informed.”
“I can do it from now on though.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question, but I decided to let him off the hook either way. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I do though. I can’t explain the whole ‘sexy voodoo hypnotism shit’ as you so eloquently called it.” His face warmed playfully, and I was struck, not for the first time, by how damn handsome he was.
My cheeks heated, so I looked down to hide my blush.
He swayed toward me, pointedly bumping me with his shoulder. “But the cranky caveman thing was because I’m livid he went to you. I’ll figure something out so you don’t have to worry about that asshole again.” He held my gaze, a fierce determination blazing in his eyes, sealing his promise.
I believed him wholeheartedly. Contrary to the dense tattoos and thick ropes of muscle, Truett had always been something of a gentle giant. He was older now, but somewhere inside him was still the same kid who’d once pulled over on the highway to pick me a bouquet of wildflowers when he couldn’t afford anything else for our anniversary.
But gentle did not equal a pushover. When it came to his family and friends, Truett had the heart of a warrior and the ruthlessness to match. I found it interesting that I still fit into either of those categories for him.
I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t ask him any more questions. I’d learned the hard way just how futile that could be. But on that step, it seemed he’d finally found his voice. I hoped like hell that meant I could finally use mine too.
“How are you doing, True? Like really doing?” I prepared myself for the same cookie-cutter responses he’d given me since the day he’d come home from his first and only deployment. I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m hanging in there. But for the first time in almost two decades, he spoke words that I didn’t need a therapist to decode.
“I guess that depends on who you ask.” He looked down, becoming fascinated by his bare feet. Meanwhile, I was just fascinated with him. “My therapists check in with me weekly and my doctor makes house calls. I’m pretty sure that’s not normal.”
“Truett,” I breathed, wishing like hell I’d stuck to my no-questions policy. The weight of gravity suddenly crushed me. “You still don’t go out in public? But…I saw you…at the restaurant…in the rain.”
He blew out a ragged breath, slowly peeking up at me. He tried to smile, but it was wholly sad—and completely heartbreaking. “Once a week I go to The Grille, but recently my ex-wife bought it and promptly shut it down.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered, my lungs suddenly on fire. Whether it was a voluntary reaction or not, I couldn’t be sure, but I immediately reached for him. Resting my hand on his thigh, I gave him a squeeze. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”
“I know,” he mumbled. “How could yo—”
“Holy shit! You’re Truett West.” Lucille’s voice broke through the moment.
My head popped up to see Dylan and Angela standing beside her on the sidewalk.
Dylan was sporting her usual skeptical curiosity.
Angela looked apologetic.
And Lucille, well… Clearly, they’d filled her in, because she appeared unapologetically starstruck. “I’ve been serving Truett West for years and didn’t even know it.” She planted her hands on her hips. “You know, you could have told me. I would have given you a discount. Heroes should never have to pay full price.”
I gasped, but it was too late. The H word had been released like a bag of venomous snakes.
Truett went solid, his thigh becoming granite. “I’m not a fucking hero,” he seethed, rising to his feet.
And she didn’t stop there. Fucking Lucille could not read a room even if she was the only one in it. “Sure you are. You saved all those people at the mall. You should be proud.”
Oh, fuckity fuck. Proud was the only word worse than hero.
I stood and stepped in front of him, not sure if I was protecting him or her. “Lucille!” I yelled. “Please stop talking.”
“Get the fuck away from my house,” Truett snarled from behind me. His anger was so palpable I could feel the vibrations on my back.
“Go back to the restaurant,” I urged, flaring my eyes at Dylan and Angela in a plea for help.