Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I look to Josie with a smile taking form on my face. “Well, then, yes. I’m very interested in the job.”
“Perfect,” Josie says, and picks up her wineglass. She holds it out to me and I tap mine against it.
I take a small sip of my wine, and after I swallow, give a nervous laugh. “I can’t believe how much lighter my shoulders feel right now. I mean, I know I don’t have the job, but I do have a plan at least.”
“That’s the spirit,” Josie says with a chuckle. “But I’ll put in a very good word for you.”
Setting my wineglass down, I turn more fully to face Josie. The somberness in my voice reflects just how serious I am when I tell her, “Thank you. For letting me vent and helping me with a job. It’s more than I could have ever expected from such a new friend.”
Josie’s eyes twinkle with fondness. “You and I have a lot in common. I know what it’s like to have your heart broken by a man who leaves you. I know what it’s like to carry that around.”
“What makes you think my heart has been broken?” I ask her curiously. I haven’t told her any of my history with Marek.
“I recognize it,” Josie murmurs. “Am I wrong?”
I shake my head with a sad smile.
“Well, I also know that the pain can be overcome with the right type of man.”
“Reed?” I take a very good guess.
“Yes,” she says with a nod. “Now that’s an interesting story, which I’ll proceed to tell you over chocolate.”
I laugh and turn back to my quiche, feeling much better about my situation than I have in a long time. “Deal.”
Chapter 9
Marek
It’s been a day and a half since I’ve stepped foot in my house. I never made it back there after Reed and I helped Holt demolish his kitchen.
I couldn’t go back there because I was afraid of what I might do to Gracen. My hands shake as they sit atop my steering wheel while I stare blankly at the garage wall.
When I had walked out of Holt’s house, I had resolved to be nicer to Gracen. To let my anger go and concentrate on building something with Lilly.
That resolve was quickly obliterated after I talked to my parents and told them about Lilly. It was a conversation that left me shredded and with a whole new level of fury at Gracen, because now she’s managed to hurt my parents.
I couldn’t go home. There was no way. When I realized I’d do something irreparable to Gracen, the part of me that still held some measure of sanity told me to leave. So I drove east on I-40, right to the ocean. Got a hotel room in Wrightsville Beach and brooded overnight. The next day, I sat out on the beach and brooded some more before I felt a little bit more in control. I drove back with determination, and now I’ve been sitting in my garage for almost an hour.
Sucking in a deep breath, I grasp the steering wheel hard for a moment. Something ugly is bottled inside of me and I have to let it out. The pressure is immense and the need for its release almost unbearable.
I let out my breath without an ounce of tension easing up on me and make my way into my house.
The kitchen lights are on and the aroma of what smells like pot roast lingers in the air. I tell myself to take some more time away from Gracen.
Head to your room, Marek. Let it go for tonight.
Instead, my feet carry me up the staircase.
To Gracen.
The woman who has now managed to cause excruciating pain to three people by keeping her secrets.
As soon as I reach the top landing, I note the warm glow of light spilling across the hardwood floor from Lilly’s open bedroom door. I can’t see either of them, but I hear Gracen’s voice as she reads The Three Little Pigs.
I’m neither warmed nor amused when Gracen’s voice pitches high. “Not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin.”
Lilly is, though. She giggles uncontrollably, and that sweet sound causes my anger to go from a hard boil to a low simmer.
I step into Lilly’s room. Gracen’s sitting with her back against the headboard, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. Lilly’s curled into her mother’s side so she can see the book that Gracen’s reading from.
They both look up at me, Gracen’s mouth pinched tight. I know she’s pissed I’ve been gone because she’s texted me a few times. So fucking what.
Lilly, though…her eyes light up in happiness to see me.
Me.
It’s the first time that’s happened, and my rage cools instantly.
“Look, Daddy,” she says in that sweet voice of an angel. “Mommy’s reading to me.”
My heart swells with something I’d describe as close to pure euphoria. I’ve felt it before but in different degrees. Felt it just last year when we won the Stanley Cup.