Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“You didn’t have to do that. I will always be here to support you.”
“I know. But he owed me after everything that happened, and I know that you’ll never tell me I can’t come back and work for you, but I don’t think I should. I love you for helping pick me up every time I fall, Dad, but this was always supposed to be temporary. It’s too many layers of complication: for you, for me, for Kingston.”
“I understand, and I think it’s brave and ballsy of you to go in there on your own and face that douchebag. If I could take back bringing him on the team, I would.”
My dad drops me off at home, and I message Kingston to let him know everything went okay this morning before I tackle the slew of messages in my group chat with Stevie, Lainey, and Violet. Never in my life did I think that sending a message announcing my official divorcée status would garner so much excitement.
Things are finally looking up.
CHAPTER 27
UNPLEASANT SURPRISES
Kingston
Queenie messaged to say she was home from the lawyer’s and that she is no longer married. So I’m standing outside her door with a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a helium-filled unicorn balloon that reads CONGRATULATIONS. Seems appropriate, all things considered. Besides, she and I both need a little levity after this crap situation.
She throws open the door. “Hey, hi.” Queenie looks beautiful, exhausted, and nervous.
“How’s my queen?”
All the relief that comes with seeing her disappears when her chin quivers and her eyes pool with tears. She lifts her shoulder in a wordless shrug. I drop the flowers and chocolate on the closest available surface, which happens to be her clean counter.
I open my arms and Queenie steps into me, her low, soft sob getting muffled by my shirt. I hold her against me, cupping the back of her head, and drop my mouth so it’s at her ear. “What’s wrong; what happened? How can I fix it?”
“You’ve already fixed it: you’re here.”
After a few minutes of just holding her, I cup her face in my palms and tip her chin up, brushing away the tears. “Why so sad?”
“Not sad.” She shakes her head. “Just emotional. I’m glad it’s over and happy you’re here.”
I brush my lips over hers. “That makes sense. So it’s official? The papers are all signed?”
“They are.”
“And Corey didn’t give you a hard time?”
“I held my own.” She smooths her hands over my chest. “I left tearstains and snot trails all over your polo.”
That’s not the answer I’m looking for, and it’s clear she’s trying to distract me, but I don’t push because I know it’s been difficult for her.
“I always have an extra one in my car, so nothing to worry about.”
“Of course you do.” She laughs and then gives me a small, slightly sad and rueful smile. “You’re officially dating a divorcée.”
I tip her chin up. “I like it. Makes me feel like a rebel.”
This time her smile is genuine. She chuckles and shakes her head. “Only you, King.”
“I missed you.” I skim her throat, and her pulse hammers under my fingertips.
“Me too. I mean, I missed you, not myself.” She links her hands behind my neck, bringing her body flush with mine again. “I was worried this week.”
“About?”
“All the time you had to think while we were apart. I wasn’t sure if you’d come to your senses or not.” She huffs a laugh and looks away, so I can’t see her vulnerability. She doesn’t give me a chance to ask what she means. Instead she tugs on the back of my neck and brings my mouth to hers.
The kiss is soft for a few strokes of tongue before need takes hold. Her nails dig into my nape, and she moans into my mouth. I pick her up and deposit her on the counter. She lands on the box of chocolates, crushing the corner. I shove them out of the way and step between her legs.
“Thank you for the flowers and the chocolate.”
“You’re welcome,” I groan when she bites the edge of my jaw.
“And the . . . unicorn balloon? Does that say ‘Congratulations’?”
“They don’t have ‘Happy Divorce’ ones, interestingly enough.” I tug her blouse over her head. It’s pale green and pretty, as is the green lace bra underneath. I cup her breasts in my palms, then glance around the bungalow. The curtains are gauzy and not the best at keeping prying eyes from seeing things they shouldn’t. “Is Jake at the arena?”
“Yeah, he dropped me off and headed there right away. How long do you have before you have pregame skate?” She tugs my polo free of my khakis and goes to work on my belt.
I check the clock on the stove. “About an hour and a half, but you have an appointment in an hour, so this’ll have to be a quickie.” I find the zipper on her skirt and pause. “Is that okay? I promise I’ll take better care of you later.”