Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I left the car running and the air-conditioning going for Stevie. I’d have Linc come outside so I didn’t get far from the car, explain our drunken mistake, get his signature, get back in, then drive away. Never to see him again. Solid plan.
Hudson would never know about this. I’d get married in three months to a man who was good to me. Had a successful dental practice, a home with a backyard—perfect for a swing set. Stevie had never had a yard to play in before. My income had been a struggle all her life. We lived in a small apartment in a safe part of town.
But that was all about to change. She would have the things I wanted for her so badly. I just needed to get this signature and leave.
Before opening my door, I grabbed the marriage certificate and divorce papers, then I stepped out into the warm summer heat and waited on the man in the truck. He could go get Linc, and we’d get this all cleared up.
I stared up at the house and the staircase that led up to the front double doors. Above the entrance was a small veranda that looked over the front yard. Round topiary bushes sat on either side of the stairs and along the front of the house.
This place was something out of a magazine. I’d hated the black paint on one house in Hudson’s neighborhood, thinking it was a ridiculous color for a house. Wrong. On the right structure, it was perfect. Even the columns on the front entrance and on the veranda were black. The only things breaking up the color were the windows.
Did a woman live here with him? I knew he wasn’t married to her. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a live-in girlfriend. The thought bothered me, and in return, that pissed me off. I did not care who or what Linc Shephard did.
One of the doors to the house swung open, and I stiffened.
Linc stepped out, and for a moment, I forgot about the papers in my hand that needed signing, the empty Vegas hotel suite with the short note he’d left for me, and the morning-after pill sitting on top of it. The fear, desperation, and pain that I had been dealt by this man’s actions seemed to slip away. Right now, I felt six years old again. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest.
The cowboy hat on his head was tilted back as he stared down at me, then continued in my direction. A plaid pearl-snap shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off the artwork on his forearms, jeans that fit his lower half in a way that made mouths water, and black combat boots made up his attire. He was rugged-looking. Less polished, like he had been in Vegas. More like the Linc from my childhood. The one I had wanted above everything else.
His gaze did a swift take of my body and locked back on my face, as if there had been nothing of interest to see there. That stung, and I wished it hadn’t. I didn’t care what this man thought of my appearance. He’d sure liked it well enough five years ago, but I guessed I’d changed since then. I was a mom, I’d struggled more than I ever had in my life, and I was stronger because of it.
“How can I help you?” he asked as he closed the distance, taking the steps with his long strides.
He didn’t appear angry, just slightly inconvenienced. As if I had interrupted something important. I glanced back as my nerves began to snowball down a hill, going full speed. The other man appeared amused, biting back a smile or possibly laughter as he leaned against his truck door, his arms crossed over his chest. When he nodded his head at me to answer Linc, I realized he was looking forward to this. He might have let me inside the gate, and he might have that dark, sexy thing going for him, but I didn’t like that man.
Turning back to Linc, I knew standing here silently was only going to prolong things. Tell him, get it over with, and remember that he wasn’t the man I had once believed. He was what he had always warned me he was. An outlaw. The very worst kind.
I cleared my throat and straightened my shoulders. There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes, and that was a slap in the face I hadn’t been prepared for. I would have thought he would remember me from our night five years ago. I mean, sure, we had drunk a lot, but we hadn’t been completely messed up when it started. Yet not even a tiny trace of recognition was there in those dark blue eyes of his.