Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Charlie laughs while Emmett groans and finishes his story, “Well, Brock and Everleigh are also staying for dinner.”
“Oh, good,” Charlie says, “count us in also.”
“What?” Emmett shrieks. “Who the fuck invited you?”
“I’m bringing your godson,” he tells him, and Emmett rolls his eyes.
“That excuse is on its last leg.” He points at him. “Every single time you want something, you use the child to get it.”
“I think the child has a name, does he not?” I interject while they both stare each other down. “Perhaps we should use it.”
“Whatever,” Emmett grumbles. “You better bring something. This isn’t a show up and everything will be catered event.”
“Emmett,” I say, not helping the laugh that comes out.
“I’m ordering pizza,” he tells Charlie, ignoring me. “That’s as much as you’re going to get.”
“Meat lovers, or I’m not coming,” Charlie counters, and Emmett looks at me.
“Or four pizzas, just cheese.” He stomps off after he says that, leaving both Charlie and me laughing at his retreating back.
“This should be fun.” Charlie takes a sip of his coffee and then looks back at me. “On another note, Pops just called. All is done in your apartment,” he informs me. “You can go home when you want.” He raises his eyebrows. “If he lets you, that is.” He turns and walks away from me.
I watch his back retreating and let the words sink in for a second. It’s not like we’ve spoken about how long I’m going to stay there. Even though Charlie has kept me up to date with the fact Derek hasn’t been in town since last week, I know, eventually, things have to go back to the way it was. I don’t know what is next, and I hate feeling so out of control with my life. It’s like everything is hanging in the balance, and I’m jumping from stone to stone, but each stone gets smaller and smaller.
I put my mug down beside my keyboard when the phone rings, and I have to get it. I work almost to lunch when I get up and bring my mug back to the kitchen to put in the dishwasher, stopping midway when I see Emmett sitting on his desk, writing on the clipboard in his hand as he looks up at me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replies as I get closer to him, his legs open, and if we were home and alone, I would walk between his legs without a second thought. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to go out for lunch,” I tell him, “and get some sweet treats for tonight.”
“Isn’t that the job of people coming to the house to bring stuff?” he asks, and I close my eyes and roll my lips. “It’s enough that they are coming over to the house.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to go and get myself something to eat, and then if they have cakes, I’ll get a couple of those.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Would you like me to get you something to eat?”
“Yeah,” he answers softly, “that would be good.”
“Will do,” I tell him and turn to walk toward the kitchen, putting my mug in the dishwasher before walking back to him. “Can I have your keys, please?” I hold out my hand and he laughs.
“They are in the truck, baby,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s said that nickname when we weren’t in bed with each other.
“See you later.” I try not to make a big deal of it as I walk back to my desk to grab my purse and then head to his truck.
I park near the bar, thinking of picking up a bottle of whiskey in case he doesn’t have any. I get out and put the keys in my purse, headed toward the bakery with my head down when I ram into someone.
I look up, and the blood drains from my body when I see Derek in front of me. He’s wearing all black, and his hands hold my arms to keep from moving. “Hey,” he says as I step back. “Sorry I scared you.”
I take a step back from him to get his hands off me. “Derek,” I whisper.
“I’ve been calling and trying to get in touch with you.” I look into his brown eyes that I thought were sweet, once upon a time. His brown hair is longer than it’s ever been. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what?” I ignore the way my heart is beating in my chest. “About you leaving me for dead?”
He closes his eyes as if I just struck him with something. “Yes,” he answers me, “there are things I need to say to you.”
“I don’t want to hear them,” I tell him. “I didn’t want to hear them when you asked the court to let you address me. I definitely don’t want to hear them now. I just want you to leave me alone.”