Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Hours later, I stare at him again while he’s sleeping. The shame from earlier still weighs heavily in my chest, but I’ve also started to feel something else—an emotion I never expected. Grateful. I reach over and tuck the sheet under his chin as he quietly slumbers next to me.
I’m so lucky and damn thankful this utterly irredeemable man survived. But more than that, he’s letting bygones be bygones when I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, or forgetfulness.
Leaning over, I kiss his lips gently, so I don’t wake him, and whisper, “I love you, Warner Landers.”
CHAPTER 26
Warner
The Day of the Wedding . . .
“Do I think it’s cruel and unusual punishment? Yes, I do. Again, I understand why, but that doesn’t make it better.” This one-handed life still gives me enough problems to swear at least once a day. I lost the right cuff link to that outburst five minutes ago. It’s yet to be found in the bedroom, but my girl came to the rescue after she heard the commotion.
I watch as Sass pushes the left cuff link through the hole of my tuxedo shirt, all the while smiling like this isn’t a state of emergency. I’ve never heard a sweeter sound than her laughter, even when it borders on hysteria like it does now and is punctuated with a snort. I ask, “Are you mocking me? It’s not funny.”
“It is funny. You’re being ridiculous, Warner.” When the cuff link is secured, she plants a kiss on the underside of my chin. Granted, the little shorty doesn’t have her shoes on yet, so that’s the highest she can reach without stretching to her tiptoes. That might get her to my lips at most. I’m not opposed to her lips on mine . . . or down there, which is how this all started. Or should I say the lack of her mouth wrapped around my cock? “The anticipation will only make it better,” she says, walking toward the closet in nothing more than strings wrapped around those deliciously sexy hips and a strapless bra making me jealous that it has the pleasure of holding her fantastic tits, and I don’t. With her hair hanging down in soft curls, the ends sway across her shoulder blades when she walks.
It’s quite a view. Almost as good as when she’s coming toward me.
That package right there—every bit of it—has brought me to life over the past few weeks, made it easier to wake up each day without an alarm, and helped me fall asleep faster with her next to me. There are still things to work out, but we’ve become pros at burying our heads in the sand. Maybe the lives we were living and the lies we were telling will eventually fade away when enough time has passed while living in the truth. I see who she is when she doesn’t wear a mask of deceit. Seeing Delaney with her family, being protective of me and making sure I felt comfortable—that’s who she really is.
This character she plays sometimes is becoming harder for her to portray. She’s more her than the unhinged version she pretended to be in the beginning. Though I still think some aspects were pulled from her own well.
The woman loves her heist movies. Odd.
She stocks the fridge with apples and carrots only to let them go bad while the box of Cheez-its is emptied and left lying on the counter. Seeing a dead pigeon makes her sad, and she always gives any spare change to someone in need. Her intentions are good, better than mine most days, and her heart is pure. That’s why the lies she’s told still don’t make sense.
I still don’t know why her being a teacher is never spoken about, and I haven’t pushed the issue since I first asked what she does for a living. The answer was flipped into something else, so I suspect she’s picking up shifts at the restaurant while I’m at work. But I haven’t verified it yet. She complains about her feet hurting and then tells me she didn’t do anything all day.
The smell of garlic perfuming her hair is the giveaway. But if she doesn’t want to talk about it, and she’s not asking me for millions of dollars, I don’t push my nose into her business.
She’s been taking care of me when no one else did, even after they found out about the accident. I haven’t heard from my mother since I last saw her, and Jimmy’s been caught up in his wedding planning. Who else is there? The assistant I pay to be in my life? Though I can’t fault her too much. She has made sure I had lunch every day and given me ibuprofen when she saw I was in pain before I even acknowledged it.