Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Can’t help but smile. I love it when my girl is happy.
I love that she’s thriving.
Mostly, I love that she’s here.
“We got a lot to celebrate tonight, then,” I reply. “Because I just got an inquiry from the website.”
“You didn’t!”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure did.”
“This means you’re gonna get on your knees for me, right? And beg forgiveness for ever doubting me and, well, everyone else about the need for a new site?”
My dick twitches. “Don’t worry, Fort Worth. I got plans for you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m actually headed over to Mollie’s studio right now. But meet me at a barn at, say, two? Then we can pick up Dean after that? Wendy at the Caffeinated Cowgirl just put peppermint hot chocolate on her menu. Could be fun to swing by for a postcoital? I mean, after-school treat?”
Fuck me, is life allowed to be this good?
I almost feel like I’m getting away with something. Probably because I assumed for so long that I was meant to suffer for all eternity. I failed Abby. I failed my son. Failed my family. What right did I have to happily ever after?
But maybe that’s what life is about, having the balls to ask for what you want even if you don’t feel like you deserve it. Why not let God or the universe or whoever decide that and give yourself permission to embrace whatever the answer looks like?
It’s easy to get lost in your own head—lost in a spiral of shame and regret. But that’s not my story anymore.
I’m done being the victim.
I’m ready to start fresh.
“I’m in,” I say. “Your barn? You know, the one you live above?”
“Done.”
“Two o’clock?”
“Two o’clock.”
“You’re late, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“Colt,” Dad admonishes.
I grin. “I’m just teasing her, Dad. Also, can you please pretend not to be listening? We’re talking about some private stuff here.”
“So I’ve gathered.”
“Dad.” It strikes me that I sound like my son.
“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” Dad replies. “But tell Lainey I clearly didn’t pay her enough, because she’s already covered her bill a week into the launch.”
“You hear that?” I say into the phone.
She’s smiling, I know she is, when she says, “I sure did. Tell Dale he paid me too much. Although I am raising my prices—”
“Because you’re the best?”
“Because I know what I deserve.”
“Love hearing that from you.”
“Love you.”
I lower my voice. “I really can’t wait to see you.”
“Colt, you saw me—what, four hours ago?”
I woke up next to Lainey after a night of solid sleep. She was quiet when I took her from behind, both of us on our sides. Her hand on my hip, my hand between her legs as I helped her chase down her orgasm. My strokes were steady, slow. A little sleepy.
Exactly how morning sex should be. I had to change the sheets—after a visit to the clinic in town, Lainey and I were able to stop using condoms—but not like I cared. Starting the day with the person I love just might be peak happiness for me.
It also helped me get through the morning rush with a lot more patience. Dean didn’t have any accidents, but Elvis did show up at the door with a squirrel in his mouth. The fun truly never ends.
“I’m pathetic, but I don’t care,” I say. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Congrats on the inquiry.”
“Congrats on the new client. You’ll be doing some good brainstorming this afternoon.”
“Why? ’Cause you’re gonna do me good?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Okay.”
“Oh! Don’t forget to bundle up for the barn.”
“We could just bang in my bed, you know.”
“But that would be boring.”
“Right. And we don’t do boring. Even when it’s forty degrees outside.”
“It’s fifty-three. See you at two, honey.”
Dean literally screams with delight when he opens the truck’s back door and sees Lainey sitting in the passenger seat.
“Lainey came to pick me up again?” He lost another tooth, so his smile is especially hilarious right now. “Oh my goodness!”
Lainey beams. “Get in, quick! We gotta make it to the Caffeinated Cowgirl before they close.”
Dean flings his backpack into the truck. “We’re getting hot chocolate? Are you serious right now?”
“So serious,” I say. “Need help getting buckled?”
Waving to his teacher, he climbs in and pulls the door shut behind him. “I’m good.”
“How was your day?”
“Good.”
“Did you have art today?” Lainey asks.
“I forget.”
“What about Spanish?” I ask.
“Nah, we had Spanish yesterday. I think we did anyway.”
I hear the click of Dean’s buckle and put the truck in drive. “What about lunch? Friday is dessert day, right?”
“Um, I forget.”
Looking at Lainey, I reach for her hand and grin. “Funny that you forget all that stuff, but you remember all the adult words I say.”
“Got a good memory.”
Lainey grins back. “You sure do, buddy.”
“Dad?” Dean asks as I pull onto the road that leads us downtown.
“Yeah?”
“Why do you have a bruise on your neck?”