Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Aww, sweetie. Don’t let him run you off. He can stay over there with the rest of his kind,” Laurel said pointing to the men around the drinks cooler.
No sooner had Laurel spoken than Scott turned and looked straight at me with an expression so broken it actually hurt me to see him look that way, my stomach getting tangled up in knots. There wasn’t even a glimpse of the man he used to be.
Breaking eye contact, I planted a kiss on Laurel’s cheek and got up. She’d been mother–henning me since I moved back. “See you in a few.”
With Scott busy saying hello to the guys, I ordered an Uber and tried with as much stealth as possible to slip out to the front yard without being noticed.
“Where are you going?”
No such luck. He’d caught up to me in the shadows of the side of the house, where the only source of light was the moon and the front yard landscape lights.
Stiffening, I turned. “Home. I think it’s best.”
His gaze cut down before returning to me. “I’ve been thinking about what you said––”
“Scott––”
“Please…just hear me out,” he said, close to begging, voice rough.
This was torture, loving someone and driving them away. Seeing them in pain and not doing anything to soothe it. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t walk away, either.
“Maybe you’re right…”
Not what I was expecting to hear.
“I put my pride ahead of you. Of us. And I’m more sorry about that than anything else I’ve ever done…but you’re wrong about me not loving you to the bone. I do. I have from the start. It’s changed me and there’s no changing back…you’re in my bones forever. The way I’m in yours…”
“I’ve gotta go,” I mumbled standing stock-still as he took a lock of my hair between his fingers.
“For better or worse––isn’t that what the vows are? We’ve been through the worse. Gimme a chance to show you the better.”
Bending his head, he kissed me on the lips, the touch whisper light. I closed my eyes and pretended we were strangers and there wasn’t a world of history standing in our way. And in spite of all the reasons it was plain wrong to kiss him back, I did it anyway. The kiss turned white-hot in a matter of seconds, had us clinging to each other like it was excruciating to be apart.
“What can I do?” he whispered against my mouth, molding our hips together, his erection pressed against me. “How can I prove it to you? I’ll do anything, Sydney, just say the word.”
I forced myself to step out of his arms, away from the warm comfort of his big body. “You can listen…You can give me a divorce.”
“Hi, I’m Cody. Anybody ever tell you that you look like Blake Lively?” the boy standing to my left slurred. I cast a glance in his direction, and he returned a drunken cocky grin.
Straight ahead, behind the bar, Tony smirked and hid a chuckle by turning his back to us and pretending to sort some bottles, the traitor.
All I wanted was to have one little drink in peace. I wasn’t in any mood to be in public––Scott’s sudden reappearance in Jackson Hole being the main cause. Three weeks and he was still here. How Blackstone was faring without him was a serious cause for concern, but I tamped down the urge to dig around. Blackstone Holdings was no longer mine to worry about. It never really had been.
Laurel had called and insisted I come out to meet her and the girls (her group of friends) for a quick drink and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Which was why I was here, at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar getting hit on by a bunch of toddlers instead of drowning my sorrows (baking muffins) back at my townhouse.
I was failing at not loving him. I tried. I really did. I tried to stay mad, to resent him. I just didn’t have it in me. Scott was still the man who had kissed every single scar. Who had understood what I needed before even I had. Despite what he’d done to my career and my heart, I was still in love with him. That thread between us hadn’t broken. And as much as I wanted to move on, I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else. It would’ve probably killed me.
I tore my eyes away from the screen of my iPhone where five new voicemails remained unlistened––all from one man––and glanced over at the toddler in question. He and his cohorts were dressed in full rodeo regalia. “Cody” had pale blond hair and eyebrows, the florid complexion of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun and drank too much. More of the same from the other two who hung over his shoulder like he was the one chosen as tribute.