Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“Where are you going?”
“To help you.” I walk to where he’s standing and take the garbage bags out of his hand. “Is that okay?”
“I’m guessing if I say no, you’ll ignore me, so sure.” He looks me over, then shakes his head. “Do you have a hat?”
“No, but I don’t think I need one.”
“Babe, it’s cold. Come on.” He places his hand against my lower back, then leads me down the hall, letting his palm fall away as he goes into the laundry room. “You can use this.” He comes back a second later and starts to place his navy-blue beanie on my head, then stops. “You need to take your hair down,” he mumbles. Then, with a flick of his wrist, my hair comes tumbling out of the bun I had it in, and he places his police-issued hat on my head.
“Thanks,” I mumble, fixing my hair as his eyes roam over my face.
“Sure.” He takes a step back away from me, then turns to head down the hall and opens the door. When we get outside, we go to the front of the house where not a small but a huge pile of leaves and yard debris waits.
“You can help by holding the bag.” He walks around me to the mound, and I open the bag for him, then look at the driveway when I hear a car. With the trees scattered throughout the yard, it takes a second to see the vehicle, but when I spot a black Mercedes, my stomach pitches.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my mind going a million miles an hour as Conner parks his car in the middle of the dirt driveway.
“Tell me that’s not your fucking ex,” Noah rumbles, and I turn to face him. The minute our gazes lock, his eyes scan mine, and the look he gives me sends a chill down my spine. “Go in the house.”
“Bridgett!” Conner yells. I glance his way, finding him already halfway across the yard.
“Not fucking happening.” Noah steps in front of me and barks out, “Get back in your car.”
“I want to talk to my wife.” Conner holds up his hands, then locks his eyes on mine. “Please, Bridgett, I just want to talk.”
“How did you know I was here?” I ask, and Noah turns to pin me with a glare.
“Your mom told me,” Conner says, and my spine stiffens. I shouldn’t be surprised she would tell him where I was, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me.
“Bud, get back in your car and get off my property.”
“You can’t tell me what to—”
“Go home, Conner,” I cut him off. “I told you the last time you sent me a text that we have nothing to talk about. That still stands.”
“I want you to move home. I want you back, Bridgett. I’m tired of this game.”
“This isn’t a game.” I shake my head while my hands ball into fists.
“Babe, get inside,” Noah says softly while catching my gaze. I nod, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
“Babe?” Conner yells as I start to walk toward the garage. “What the fuck is that, Bridgett? You didn’t want to put out for me, but you’re putting out for this douche?” He laughs without humor, and anger mixed with embarrassment twists in my stomach. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’d spread your legs for a place to live.”
I spin around to tell him to go fuck himself but snap my mouth shut when I find Noah shoving him back toward his car, causing him to stumble. He shoves him again every time Conner rights himself.
“You come near her again, I’ll arrest you,” Noah snarls as he shoves him one last time, sending him flying onto the hood of his Mercedes.
“Fuck you, man!” Conner roars, jerking upright and kicking his foot like a kid throwing a fit, causing rocks to fly out. “And fuck that stupid bitch.” He storms to the driver’s side door and rips it open. A moment later, his engine starts, and a second after that, he backs out of the driveway, going way too fast, causing his tires to squeal as he spins around the corner.
With my arms wrapped around my middle, I watch Noah’s hands flex and his back rise and fall. Even without seeing his face, I know he’s angry, and I know that it’s because of me. “I’m sorry,” I call out, and his shoulders jerk. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
“You’re not fucking leaving, Bridgett.” He turns to face me. “But I do want you to talk to your lawyer and tell him what happened.” He prowls my way. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I shake my head, then drag in a deep breath. “I hate him.”
“I can understand why.” He stops in front of me. “Your mom told him you were staying here.”