Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Hmm . . . for me, the phrase brings to mind an old dusty, crumbling bouquet, rotting away in an attic.”
He gave a full laugh then. “That’s less than romantic.”
“Way less.” Her smile dwindled. “I knew something was wrong, Gavin. With you, I mean. I knew it, but I chose to ignore it and write it off to nerves or that you were fighting with Mirabelle about your intention of entering poker tournaments and traveling once you’d turned twenty-one. I didn’t question you because I didn’t want to. I thought . . . well, I thought whatever was wrong would be dealt with once we were married. I felt you slipping away, and instead of facing it and asking you why, I pushed forward. I had some growing up to do too,” she finished softly.
“You are not to blame for my lack of courage, Si. Please don’t think—”
“That’s not what I mean. I just mean that we both played our parts, and it’s important for me to recognize that.”
His gaze held on her, his heart expanding. He’d thought he’d loved her before, but he’d had no idea. Impossibly, she’d become more of everything he’d always admired about her.
“Tell me about winning the World Series of Poker,” she said, surprising him. He turned on his back. Lying with her felt familiar and new. They used to sneak out of their trailers and lie in the back of his pickup truck, staring up at the nighttime sky and talking until all hours. They’d done other things in the back of that pickup truck, too, her legs wrapped around his hips as he went half out of his mind with pleasure.
The World Series of Poker. He moved his inner eye into that large brightly lit arena, smelled the scent of cigarette smoke competing with the sour stench of adrenaline, and his body cooled, blood coursing more slowly.
“I played with this sort of . . . wild abandon. Some people wondered if I was trying to lose.” He was quiet for a moment, remembering that time. He heard the whispers of the other players. They’d thought he was mostly crazy and that he’d be down for the count soon enough. Winning took more controlled strategy than he was displaying. “The announcers used to say I played as though I was fearless,” he said, pausing again. “But that wasn’t it. I just had nothing of value to lose.” He turned toward her, meeting her eyes in the gauzy light. “I’d already lost the one thing that really mattered to me. You.” Only worse, he hadn’t just lost her; he’d thrown her away. He knew her well enough to know that was how she’d felt. But even though he’d been the one to walk away—run away—he’d been gutted too. Desolate. He’d wanted her with him. Her thoughts. Her touch. Her love. Her as his wife. And so while part of him was relieved to be unburdened by the pressure he’d felt, mostly he hated himself. Hence his recklessness.
“So if I was by your side, you probably wouldn’t have won.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I would have played differently, yes.”
“So you wouldn’t have been rich. You might have been living in a van down by the river.”
He laughed. “I like to think I’d have figured out a middle ground.” His expression became serious. “In some ways winning was awful, Si, because it felt like the thing I’d traded for you, and it didn’t begin to fill your void. In fact, it made your absence starker, because I wanted to talk to you about it. I wanted to share it. With you. Only with you. And you weren’t there.”
She smiled, but it was fleeting. “Where do we go from here?” she asked, her voice all but a whisper.
His heart rate jumped, but he didn’t really have an answer to that, because she was the one involved with someone else. That question was not for him to answer. They were so close, and part of him wanted to reply by leaning in and kissing her. But that wasn’t really an answer, not one he wanted anyway, at least not only that. In any case, he wasn’t going to take advantage of her, not like this, not when she was drowsy and groggy and just coming off a migraine. Yes, he desperately wanted her, but this was not the time.
“First,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and bringing her close, “we get you some more good sleep, because the sun is barely up.” She snuggled into him, and a few minutes later, he felt her body relax, her breath becoming smooth and even as she once again surrendered to dreams.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sienna stood in the doorway, watching Gavin sleep, her lips tilting in a tender smile. She’d felt him wake several times throughout the night as he’d checked on her. He’d also gotten up once and brought her another dose of medication and a glass of water. That and the rest had done wonders. Her head felt completely clear. She was thankful he’d kept sleeping when she’d gotten out of bed thirty minutes ago. She’d wanted time to shower and clean herself up. She’d needed time to think.