Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
But what if he didn’t let it?
What if he reached out to fix that connection? Even if it was only held together by a thread. A thin line of communication kept open for the future.
Something was better than nothing, right? That was Trip’s personal motto.
One day when she was done traveling the world, when she was tired of being alone, when she was ready to settle in one spot…
She might come back to him. Forgive him for pushing her away.
And understand why he did it.
He just didn’t want to lose her to someone else in the meantime.
To lose that chance.
To snap that thin thread so nothing remained to tug on, to encourage her to return to him.
When he was finished smoking, he licked his fingertips and pinched out the end of the joint before tucking it back into his tin. Then he leaned his head back against the wall and stared at nothing but darkness.
The bunkhouse was quiet and that made the voices in his head deafening.
The one urging him to call her. To reach out. To do whatever he had to to get her back.
The other voice telling him not to do it. Warning him that it wasn’t smart. Telling him to be patient and wait to see how things shook out with what happened Saturday night. Once he knew the club was in the clear, he could make an effort to fix what he fucked up.
That would be the right and smart way to do it.
“Yep. Sure fuckin’ would,” he answered himself as he reached for his damn phone anyway.
He closed his eyes and pressed the top edge of his cell phone against his forehead, blowing out a breath.
It’s late and she’s probably asleep. Don’t fuckin’ do it, dumbass.
She probably don’t wanna talk to you. Don’t fuckin’ do it, dumbass.
Don’t fuckin’ do it, dumbass.
He sighed. Of course he was going to be a dumbass.
He scrolled through his contacts, found her name and hit Send.
One ring.
Go to voicemail.
Two rings.
Go to voicemail.
Three rings.
Go to—
“Hello?” Her question was scratchy and a bit sluggish since he probably woke her.
He closed his eyes again at hearing her voice in his ear and his heart began to thump a little faster.
He had so much to say.
He said nothing.
He wanted to explain.
He gave her nothing.
The silence stretched across what he assumed were hundreds of miles between them.
If he didn’t say anything maybe she’d hang up.
“I know it’s you, Whip. Your number’s programmed into my phone, remember?”
The fact she hadn’t deleted it gave him some hope.
But only a very thin sliver.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? Did he butt dial her or accidentally hit the wrong button? She should simply hang up.
Truthfully, she shouldn’t have answered in the first place. But she was weak and her heart had won out over her head.
“Whip, I’m hanging up if you don’t say anything. You called me. There had to be a reason for it.”
More silence.
“I’m hanging up,” she warned again.
“Don’t.”
His voice.
God, it made her heart ache with how much she missed him.
It made her heart break for a man she’d only known three weeks.
The first man who ever called her “babe” without it coming off like an insult. The first time in her life she ever welcomed that kind of endearment.
“Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” After she’d turned off the eleven o’clock news, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Ever since she’d first heard the reports this morning, she had actually reached for her phone several times throughout the day to call him.
To ask him if he was okay. If everyone in his club was all right.
What had happened in a quaint, normally quiet town called Manning Grove in northern Pennsylvania had hit the national news.
The news anchors talked about the death and destruction. The footage showed some of it. It had been both heart stopping and heartbreaking.
So, yes, she was more than relieved to hear his voice. To know he was alive and hopefully not injured in any way.
But she hadn’t forgiven him.
Not because of what he said but because what he said had been a lie.
“That’s the problem, Fallon, you think too much. You’re too goddamn independent. In my world to be an ol’ lady you’d be my property. That means when I tell you I don’t want you goin’ somewhere you’d listen. When you don’t listen, you make me look weak and less than a fuckin’ man. I can’t fuckin’ have that. I’d lose all goddamn respect from my brothers.”
She’d heard plenty of lies in her thirty-six years. Too many to count, really. Some worse than others.
But for some reason, coming from Whip… That lie… It more than hurt. It more than disappointed. It left a mark.
At the time she didn’t know why those words devastated her more than others.
Now she knew.
Somewhere within those three weeks she had fallen in love with the man. It had snuck up on her so unexpectedly that she couldn’t protect her heart before he stole it.