Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Dean—”
When I move toward her, her words drop off as her eyes widen. She pulls in a deep breath when I grab the back of her neck with one hand, taking her hip in my other hand, before yanking her to me. I look down into her bright-blue eyes and see the truth. “You are mine,” I say again. “And I need you to realize that.” I brush a kiss to her lips, then press my head to hers as she inhales. “I can go at whatever speed you want, but I need to know you know you are mine.”
Her eyes meet mine, glassy and full of apprehension. “I know.”
I sigh deeply before moving my lips to hers. “Good.”
Before I can kiss her, she goes to her tippy-toes and places her mouth over mine, and I cuddle her into my chest as our kiss deepens. I know there are a lot of things that could try to get in our way, but I won’t let anything stop what is happening between us. I may not have had the last nineteen years of her life, but I’ll have the rest of her days.
And she’ll have mine.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
Kenni
I’ve been tossing and turning in my bed for the last two hours.
I know Dean wanted me to sleep in his bed, but I needed space. Now I wonder if his bed would have comforted me.
Nope. I need him.
That’s one hell of a realization.
Our afternoon was cut short when he was called in early because Wagner needed to go up to Knoxville for his mom. It didn’t feel quite right when he was getting ready to leave. Of course, he gave me a toe-curling kiss, demanded I sleep in his bed, and told me to text him, but it didn’t feel natural. Not forced, but not how the morning did before the call from my lawyer. When Dean left, it felt off. Or maybe I felt off. I don’t know. Even with his goodnight text that had me swooning like a damned teenager, I’m more confused than a normal person with a Rubik’s Cube.
I’m still fucking married, and the rage I feel is almost too crushing. I don’t know why the hell Stratford is doing this. I mean, I do. But really? He has the audacity to try to keep me married to him when he was the one who started a whole new family?
I need Taylor Swift to write me a hate song about him.
My lawyer told me not to contact him, but I want Stratford to know that I have loads and loads of evidence against him. I know he is doing this to try to get us to the twenty-year mark, but I’ll be damned. I don’t want anyone but my boys getting that trust.
I grunt loudly, rolling over onto my back. The guilt inside my chest is heavy and toxic. Dean is a good guy. He is loved by this community like no other. When he didn’t marry Missy after they found out about Skyye, his character was in question. And while I know everyone in Thistlebrook is aware that I left my husband, can Dean’s reputation take another hit from his sleeping with a married woman? This town is so damn old-school, all set in their ways, and I don’t want anything tarnishing Dean’s good name.
Especially my whole fucked-up self.
I never expected to come to town and find myself wanting Dean as badly as I do. I love how he makes me feel, how he makes me laugh, and how, in two days, I feel more at home in his home than I ever did anywhere else. It’s not fair that I’m still married. It’s not right that I might have to fight for a divorce. Maybe I should just give Stratford the year, but I don’t want to. I want to be free of him.
To do what? Jump into another relationship?
Jesus, what am I doing? What the hell am I doing? I really had no intention of finding myself in this situation when I came back. All I wanted was to have fun with my sister and Sadie. Love on my nieces and nephew and find who I am as a mature woman.
While finding Dean may not have been the plan, I can’t say I don’t love who I am when I’m with him. I feel happier, I feel freed, and yet, I’m also his. I’m another man’s person, and I’m okay with that. I crave it. But how can I ask him to be with someone who has more baggage than an airport on a holiday weekend?
I blow out a long breath, running my hands down my face. Usually when I feel like this, I’d call Missy or Sadie, but I don’t want either of them. Jeez, just thinking of Missy has me groaning. How is she going to take this? I don’t feel guilty about what has happened between Dean and me, but I know I need to tell her. Even if I don’t know what will happen in the future, I don’t want her finding out about us from anyone but me. Then the kids. Ugh, this is all so complicated.