Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
As the four of us eat and chat while the kids hang out, I look across the island to Tucker when my scalp prickles and find his gaze on me with his eyes soft. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. We’ve made it through another dramatic event and came out on the other side together.
And if Naomie and Bowie’s plan is to tear us apart, all they are actually doing is adding mortar and stone to the solid foundation we are building our relationship on.
CHAPTER THIRTY
tucker
As I sit on the bench in the locker room at the station after working out and showering, I glance at the door when I hear it open and watch Bowie step inside with his duffle bag over his shoulder. The moment he spots me, his jaw gets tight, but he doesn’t say a word as he walks to his locker that’s just a little way down from mine.
Ignoring him and the weight of the tension that has filled the room, I stand and start to get dressed.
“Naomie told me that she’s pregnant,” he says after a few minutes, and I look in his direction, his face blocked by his locker door that is open. Our eyes meet when he slams it closed. “Have you told Miranda yet?”
“Miranda was with me when Naomie showed up at my place to share the news, and since I haven’t been with Naomie since she miscarried and that was almost eight months ago, I find it hard to believe the kid could be mine.”
“I know you two were still sleeping together until recently,” he bites out while buckling his police-issued slacks.
“And who told you that?”
“She did.”
“Right,” I mutter, tugging my shirt down over my head as Miles walks into the locker room through the open doorway that leads to the gym. He doesn’t say a word, just leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between Bowie and me.
“Why would she lie?”
“Why does Naomie do half the shit she does?” I put on my boots and start to tie them as I lock my eyes on his. “Regardless of whatever bullshit she’s feeding you, I’m telling you straight out that I do not want her. She’s all yours.”
“The kid’s not mine. I never went without a condom when I was with her.” At least he isn’t a complete idiot. “What are you doing with my wife?”
“Your ex-wife,” I clip, and his jaw tics once again. “And it’s none of your fucking business.”
“We have a kid together, so it is my business,” he argues as I finish tying my boots and grab my holster.
“When you started fucking someone else while you were married to her, you lost the privilege of asking questions.”
“If you hurt her—”
“Man, what the fuck are you doing?” I grab my gun from my locker and holster it on my hip, then rest my hands on my waist as my eyes lock on his. “You need to choose a fucking side. Are you trying to win back Miranda, or are you trying to build something with Naomie? Because the way your mom put it to Miranda the other night, you’ve made it clear where your loyalty stands.”
“You think I want my mother around this drama?” He shakes his head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I said what I said to her to keep her away. I might have fucked up by cheating on my wife—”
“Ex-wife,” I correct, and he glares at me.
“I might have fucked up by cheating on Miranda, but I still love her. Naomie is—” He shakes his head. “—relentless.”
That’s one way to put it.
“Sorry to tell you this, but that’s your problem.” I slam my locker door closed before I grab my duffle off the bench and look at Miles. “See you outside.” He jerks up his chin as I walk past him.
“I’m still in love with my wife, and I’m going to figure out how to fix things between us,” Bowie calls to my back, and I look at him over my shoulder, my muscles getting tight. I don’t consider him a threat to what Miranda and I have, but every fucking time he refers to her as his wife, the urge to beat the shit out of him becomes a little more difficult to ignore.
“Then I feel sorry for you because you’re fighting a battle you’re never going to win. Miranda is mine, and I’m not giving her up.” I shake my head before walking out the door.
With the sun already set and the canopy of the forest above me, the chill in the air is amplified, making me wish I brought a thicker jacket with me tonight.
This afternoon, Miles and I went over the plot of land the church purchased seven years ago along with all the building permits they’ve pulled since then and aerial shots of the property. It took us some time to narrow down what building the youth group is held in, because the fifty acres houses three buildings besides the church and Pastor Green’s home. Although I wouldn’t call it a home. It’s more like a mansion at over ten thousand square feet with a pool and a pool house.