Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
As she opened her mouth to say something, Xander tugged on her face so she was now looking at him—a gesture miniature badasses learned early, I guessed. “Mommy, I want to go and swim,” he whined.
I admired his patience for waiting so long and was beyond thankful for his timing.
Macy smiled down at him. “Sure, sweetie.” She kissed his head before pointing to me. “I’m all for leaving assholes in the past, but I’m also all about getting my girlfriends drunk so they can purge their demons. Fair warning, you look like you’ve got to purge this motherfucker.”
Oh, she had no idea.
I did need to purge Preston from my life. Unfortunately, that involved leaving the family I’d created here. Because there was no way of getting rid of him without dragging them into it, without exposing all the lies I’d told.
The thought was like a punch to the stomach, and it was an effort not to double over at the force of it. This could be the last time I stood in Macy’s kitchen.
I’d miss the woman who’d made me a part of her family in a matter of months, the one who was still staring at me shrewdly. Luckily, she had a small human to contend with.
She looked down at Xander. “Swim time!” she exclaimed in her ‘mom voice’ before carrying him toward the pool.
I let out the breath I’d been holding as she disappeared, but I didn’t get a moment of respite. A moment to process.
Swiss sauntered into the kitchen from outside, having changed into his swim trunks at some point.
They were slung low on his hips, showing off his glistening six pack, and his ‘Adonis Belt’ looked like it had been carved with a knife.
No, he looked like he had been sculpted.
But even Swiss, in swim trunks, with droplets of water running down his abs, was not enough to distract me, to slow my racing heart. I tried my very best to fake my composure, to stare at his abs instead of his face—something I likely would’ve done with or without Preston’s call.
He came up behind me, encircling me in his arms and gently pulling me away from the platter I had finished arranging five minutes ago.
“Remember what I promised to do in the bathroom?” he murmured in my ear.
My heart continued racing, but for a different reason now.
Preston’s voice was still an echo in my ear, though it was getting quieter and quieter.
“I vaguely recall,” I replied, my voice breathy.
“Vaguely?” he rasped, kissing my neck. “Well, I think I need to make sure there is nothing vague about what happens next. In fact, I need to make sure that the only thing you think about is my cock inside you.”
Then he threw me over his shoulder and walked us to the bathroom where he fucked me against the wall.
And there was nothing vague about it.
I didn’t entirely forget about Preston’s call—that was impossible—but I pushed it to the back of my mind, settling even further into my mindset of denial. Him finding my phone number was problematic—I’d later find out that Violet gave it to him because he’d spun some lie as to why he didn’t already have it. And of course, why wouldn’t she give her father her mother’s number?
What kind of damage could one little phone call do?
Quite a lot, it turned out.
Chapter Thirteen
Kate
TWO WEEKS LATER
It was my fault, I guessed.
How it all fell apart.
I got too comfortable.
Content in a way I hadn’t thought my soul was capable of.
There was a ticking clock somewhere deep inside of me, and I was always mindful of it, knowing that I would have to make serious decisions soon. Very soon. As much as I loved it here, with Swiss, I couldn’t abandon my daughter. I needed to see her. My heart wasn’t beating right without her, and I was counting down the moments until I got to see her face again.
But I spoke to her often. I knew she was happy, healthy, safe. That was enough for now.
And I had an identity outside of being her mother, outside of being Preston’s wife and punching bag.
I was… alive in a way I’d never thought possible.
“You know your pinky is out,” a voice teased.
I blinked to my left, to where the voice was coming from.
Swiss was grinning at me, his eyes warm molasses.
My heart skipped at that grin. At the movement of his muscles as he walked toward me. My eyes ran over the exposed skin hungrily, even though it had been pressed against mine less than an hour ago.
“Only you, Countess, would drink beer with your fucking pinky out,” he teased, yanking me in to kiss the side of my forehead.
“My pinky wasn’t out,” I argued.
His eyes danced. “Your pinky was most definitely fuckin’ out.” He looked to Hansen who was leaning against the bar, close to Macy. “Brother, help me out. She was definitely drinkin’ with her pinky out.”