Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Way’s laughter followed him out until the sound of the door closing ended it.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and loaded. I walked closer to the dartboard, studying the damage. Some of the holes were small and precise—clean hits that spoke of careful aim. Others were jagged tears where darts had been yanked out in frustration.
“How often?” I asked quietly.
“Tommy—”
“How often did you throw darts at my face?”
Foster’s shoulders sagged. “Every day. Sometimes… sometimes multiple times a day.”
I traced a finger along one of the larger tears, right through where my left eye would be. “Were you imagining revenge or something?”
“No.” His voice was raw. “I was imagining forgetting you.”
Suddenly, I realized my eyes were filling with stupid-ass tears. I gritted my teeth against them. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”
His eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. “You were in Billings. I sent you a text.”
“You sent me a ‘Have a good life’ text!” I snapped.
Now his eyebrows nearly shot up into his hairline. “What? No I didn’t. Why would I do that? I fucking love you! I have since… Hawaii! I had to come home for Anna’s birthday dinner, but I was going to drive back as soon as it was over. Slide into bed with you, even if it meant waking you up—”
“You love me?” I spun around to face him fully. “You love me, but you’ve been throwing darts at my face for six months? That’s not love, Foster. That’s—”
“Torture,” he finished quietly. “It was torture. Every single day, seeing your face and knowing I couldn’t have you. Knowing you belonged to someone else.”
“I broke up with her!” The words exploded out of me. “I called off my wedding because of you! Because one kiss from you was worth more than ten years with her, and you—” I gestured wildly at the dartboard. “You turned me into your personal punching bag.”
Foster stepped closer, and I saw something give way in his expression. “I didn’t know you’d broken up, Tommy. I thought you were married. I thought you’d used me for some pre-wedding experiment and then went back to your perfect life. And I still couldn’t stop myself from wanting you. I looked up your picture because I thought you couldn’t be as gorgeous as I remembered, but you were.” He gestured at the dartboard. “Then I thought maybe if I could destroy it, I might destroy the hold you had on me, but that didn’t work either.” His big hand reached out and cupped my cheek. “I fucking ached for you. Day and night.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath and turned into the warmth of his palm.
“Because deep down, I didn’t want to let you go, no matter how angry and hurt and heartbroken I was,” he went on in a voice so tense it cracked. “I kept your T-shirt, just so I could touch it. I got a dog, just like I’d told you I would, and the minute I saw her, I thought about how damn happy you looked when you were eating that damn hummus dip and teasing me to name her after—”
“Hummus.” A laugh wanted to bubble up, but I was too scared things were still too precarious. “I can’t believe you named her after hummus because I made an offhand joke.”
Foster nodded, his gaze warm and a little wary. “Every time I said her name, I’d think of you, even when I thought I’d never see you again. And then I showed up in Legacy… and there you were. Even smarter, and funnier, and kinder than my memory. A hundred times more compelling than that damn picture.” His eyes bored into mine, like he was willing me to believe him. “If you think I could walk away from you with a ‘have a good life’ text, Tommy Marian, think again.”
I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “But… Trace said you quit.”
Foster scowled. “Bullshit he did. I didn’t quit. I hired on!”
I stepped back and rubbed my hands over my face, trying to make any of this make sense. “What do you mean, you hired on? I asked him if you quit, and he said…” I stopped and replayed the words. “He said he thought so?”
That didn’t make any sense. How could Trace not know if Foster quit SERA?
Foster’s eyes closed, and he let out a breath before stepping toward me again. “Baby. He probably thought you knew. He probably thought you were asking if I’d quit my job yet.”
Before I could respond, he added, “Quit my job here. In Majestic. I accepted a permanent position at SERA.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. An impossible gift. “You… what?”
He gestured to the desk, which was neat and mostly bare, with the exception of a single, white business envelope. “My letter of resignation. I took the job Trace offered. Permanent SAR director. I’m moving to Montana.”