Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Hearing that knifes me deep.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No. She didn’t say much, just that you guys had a fight.” He stares at me sullenly. The kid’s got a point.
I’d be thinking the same thing if I was him, wondering how my old man could fuck up such a good thing.
“So what was it? Don’t tell me you chickened out.” He sighs.
“Work stuff,” I bite off. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Work stuff? Lame. And yeah right, it must matter a lot if you’re shitting things up with an awesome girl,” he throws back, shaking his head again, this time in disgust. “I can’t believe you.”
Me neither, kid.
Snarling, I lean against the counter and pull out my phone, which has been buzzing frantically in my pocket.
For a brief second, I’m able to hope it’s Winnie until I see it’s my brothers, checking in. Patton wants to make sure I’m okay and Dex is close behind him.
I don’t have the heart to answer them.
And I don’t the rest of the day, either.
Instead, as Colt shuts himself away in his room and ignores me, I mope around the house in the hopes she’ll call or come back or—fuck, do something.
Just tell me you’re okay.
I read your letter and I know you had your reasons. We can still talk.
I hate that I only realize I’m being desperate and clingy after I send those texts.
No matter what I do, though, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something vital. That uneasy hollow in the pit of my stomach doesn’t fade, and I’m positive it’s there thanks to Winnie.
Look, I’m not like Rina. I’m not the New Agey type who believes in premonitions or sixth senses or what the hell ever.
Right now, I’m just a man who’s brutally worried because she left and I don’t know how to get her back.
The best thing that’s ever happened to me, and she’s gone in a flash.
Patton and Dexter turn up at seven o’clock sharp, just as I’m plating up a spicy pasta dish Colt promptly grabs and takes to his room so he can go right back to ignoring me.
I damn near bite my tongue off, choosing to back down and let it slide.
If I force him to eat with me at the table like a civilized person, it’ll turn into a fight for sure, and neither of us need to turn on each other more.
Too bad my brothers had to come. I don’t know if it’s to save me or toss me straight into the fire.
“So, did you talk to her yet?” Patton asks when I let them both inside.
“You’ve been ignoring us all day,” Dexter adds.
Yeah. I think I’d rather wrestle Colt to the dinner table than take love advice from these two.
“And naturally, you thought the best way to handle the situation was to barge in here and pester me?” I snort.
Patton smirks, his favorite expression. Like always, I hope his nerves misfire and it gets locked on his face.
“It’s not like we were getting anywhere with hoping you’d get back to us.”
Shit. I’m trapped with a pair of hyenas.
“Since you’re here… dinner? I can set a few more plates.” I gesture to the table and the pasta still on the stove.
“Nah,” they say in unison.
“Junie’s making that chicken with the mushroom cream sauce when I get back,” Dexter says smugly.
“Where did you bury your inner health freak after you killed him, Dex? You must’ve put on ten pounds since the wedding.” My lip curls.
“Lucky man. I’m on dinner duty when I get back,” Patton says.
“You can cook?” Dexter raises an eyebrow.
“Better than you. It’s amazing what a wife and kid will do for your food game.”
“Your game is recycling the same six recipes biweekly. You wouldn’t know a cookbook if the whole library in Mom’s pantry fell on your head,” I growl.
As happy as I am for their domestic bliss, I don’t need them rattling on about it in my dining room right after I detonated relations with the only woman I’ve wanted to cook for in ages.
So I fold my arms and lean back in my chair, studying them slowly.
I don’t have time or patience for this shit.
“If you’re not going to say anything useful, get out. I’m not in the mood tonight.” I glare at them.
“Damn, Arch, Winnie never had a prayer when you’re just dripping in charisma,” Patton deadpans.
“I mean it, dickhead.” I set my jaw.
“Okay, so let’s talk about Winnie since that’s why we’re here. Colt told me you crapped the bed,” Dexter says. “What happened? I thought you were going to smooth things over?”
“I was,” I say. “But she wasn’t here when I got back.”
Patton’s forehead creases, his smirk gone. “What, she left?”
“I mean she left, Captain Oblivious. Left me a Dear Archer note saying she’d ruined my life enough, so she was taking herself out of it.” I sigh.