Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Did I overstep? Maybe.
“But was walking away overstepping too?” I ask, my voice falling flat in the empty house.
Even as I ask the question, I know the answer.
I took the easy way out, even if it was inevitable.
I stand in the dark and look out the kitchen window at Gabrielle’s house. The lights are off there too. I wonder if she’s awake in her bed or in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Is she talking to Dylan or helping Carter get back to sleep?
Is she crying?
Does she hate me?
“I could never hate you, Gabrielle. Not when I think I love you.”
The shadows cover me as I turn and head for bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
GABRIELLE
Ihate to be the one to admit this,” Cricket says, breezing into Scottie’s kitchen. “But Della—you’re a genius.”
Della bows as if she’s a princess.
Scottie and I laugh from behind the island.
Cricket drops her bag on Scottie’s kitchen table. The sun shines on her through the window, highlighting the blond streaks in her red hair. There’s a glow about her that I used to know personally. I used to have it too. Cricket beams practically as brightly as the new tennis bracelet around her wrist.
“Thank you for moving the monthly cocktail date up so I can fill you all in,” she says, accepting a peachy drink from Della. “It’s so fun to be the one with news.”
“I want you to know it’s been killing me not to ask how things are going with Peter,” Della says, side-eyeing Cricket. “But since his car has been home every night over the last two weeks, and you’ve been missing in action, I’m hoping that means you’re getting some action.”
“Ladies . . .” She presses her lips together until they break into a squeal. “I’m having fun sex!”
Della laughs as Cricket bounces on her toes.
“I take it the trench coat worked,” I say, wondering whether it’s too soon to ask for another drink.
Cricket sashays across the room. “Oh, it worked, all right. He was shocked at first. I thought I had overplayed my hand and he was going to wrap me back up in the coat and send me to a priest for confession. I didn’t need confession until after he”—she gives Della a devilish grin—“fucked me on his desk.”
“My little girl is growing up,” Della says, earning a swat from Cricket.
“I’ve spent the last fifteen days either being ravaged by my husband or trying to prepare for the next round,” Cricket says. “I have no idea what’s going on with you girls. Fill me in. What’s been happening?”
Scottie looks at me to see whether I want to go first. I look away, making it clear I do not.
Every morning, I wake up and think it will be the day that things get easier. I won’t miss Jay as much as I did the day before. I’ll stop looking at his driveway to see when he gets home and stop being disappointed when he doesn’t arrive until well after dark. Maybe I’ll also stop wondering whether the delay is to avoid me and the kids.
How can I miss him this much? How is it possible to have grown that attached to one person in such a short amount of time?
“I’ll go,” Della says, pouring me another drink. “I met this couple last weekend randomly. I was in a store buying a hammer, of all things, and we just started talking. Anyway, it turns out that those two were into some funky shit, and the wife asked me if I would be her husband’s birthday present.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
She shrugs. “He was hot as hell. Six two, six three, and all muscle.”
“Did you do it?” Scottie asks.
“Of course she did it,” Cricket says, snorting. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Of course I did it.” Della winks at Cricket, earning an eye roll. “I went home with them, and the guy fucked my brains out while the wife watched from a chair across the room. She loved every minute of it.” She looks at us. “What? It’s a fetish some people have. I might as well take the orgasms, because someone was going to.”
“This only happens to you,” Cricket says.
“Thank God. That man had a tongue that could do things I’ve never seen done before—and that’s saying something.” Della laughs. “So that’s my news. Scottie, you’re up.”
Scottie hops on a barstool and grins. “So Della worked her magic and slipped the vet my number and he called.”
“Let me chime in and say the vet is very good looking.” Della tips her glass toward Scottie. “And he was a complete gentleman while he looked over Lark’s dog. Nice catch, babe.”
“I can’t believe you actually took Lark’s dog to the vet to give him Scottie’s number,” I say.
“If a girl won’t help you snag a guy, what kind of a friend is she?” Della asks.