Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
There was a five-second pause before he spoke again.
“Cocksucker?”
“OUT!” I pointed at the door.
He scurried away like a rat, leaving me to collapse on the floor.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RIGGS
Emmett: I saw that you put in a request to cover the Sri Lankan economic crisis. That’s two months in South Asia.
Riggs: Really? I thought I could do it remote from my local Starbucks.
Emmett: Thought you were all loved up with Desiree McFake.
Riggs: We ran into a crisis.
Emmett: Ran is the right word. That was quick.
Riggs: You’re a little too smug about this for my liking. Wanna bet I can ruin your marriage in less than an hour if I put my mind to it?
Emmett: Not funny.
Riggs: Not kidding. Give me the Sri Lanka assignment. I want to get out of here.
It was time to cut the cord.
If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that if I got attached to someone, they’d end up leaving.
Hell, people I hadn’t had the chance to get attached to had left me. Giving Daphne Markham a chance was going to completely annihilate me.
And I’d seen her face. All flushed and rosy when I walked in on her with Cocksucker.
Yeah, I wasn’t going to get my heart broken by my wife.
No matter the price.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DUFFY
House Rules
No pets
No hookups
No fraternizing with your spouse
Someone had crossed the no-hookups rule. And that someone wasn’t me.
Riggs didn’t believe me when I said BJ and I were over.
He didn’t return home that night, or the night after that. I tried to burn time by visiting Charlie, who seemed reluctant to provide any details regarding his showdown with Riggs, and with Laura. But for the most part I was alone, as I had been for years, ever since I’d moved to New York for BJ.
Thing was, I’d never felt the loneliness. It simply existed alongside me, like an ugly painting you get used to. Not this time. This time, the feeling was big, and vast, and took over the entire flat. It suffocated me when I was awake, pressed against my chest when I was asleep.
I wanted to call him. To reach out. It wasn’t my pride that stopped me. It was the notion that I didn’t stand a chance. Riggs still saw me as the superficial gold digger he’d met at Gretchen’s flat all those weeks ago. He wasn’t going to change his mind. We were done.
And still. The thought he was somewhere else, likely in another woman’s bed, made my stomach roll. He owed me nothing, and me? I wanted everything.
Most of all, I wanted to know the results of his blood test. I needed to know that he was okay. So on the second day, I broke down and texted him.
Duffy: Did you get your blood test results yet?
Riggs: Yes.
Duffy: Are you going to share them with me?
Riggs: No.
Arsehole. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the settee, where I’d slept the last couple of nights, breathing in traces of his scent.
Duffy: Shall I be expecting you at some point this century?
Riggs: If you’re asking if I’ll make it to our interview on Oct 22nd, the answer is yes.
Duffy: It is not what I’m asking at all.
Duffy: Have you moved out?
Riggs: I still have my equipment there, don’t I?
Then where the bloody hell was he? I decided I was fed up with his attitude.
Duffy: Dunno. Do you? I just might toss it out to make some space for my own stuff.
Riggs: You will do no such thing.
Duffy: . . .
Riggs: Don’t do anything stupid, Poppins.
Four hours later, Riggs walked through the door. He actually looked quite cheerful, which made me perk up at first. Then I realized it wasn’t his reunion with me that was making him happy. He was holding something between his palms. Hopefully not acid to throw in my face. Gingerly, I got up from the settee and strolled over to him. His photography equipment was still tucked in the corner of the living room, in one piece. For now.
“What’re you holding?” I asked, suspicious. His grin was far too big for it to be something I’d be happy to see.
“It starts with a C and ends with a T.”
I made a face. “Don’t tell me you brought a cunt over. I thought we’d agreed indiscretions would be left out this door.”
He actually chuckled a bit before frowning, remembering that I was his new public enemy. He opened his palms. Inside sat the most ridiculously tiny and adorable kitten. It was all black with bright-blue eyes. It was caked in mud, with crusty eyes and very little meat on it.
A stray. Of course he took in a stray. That’s how he viewed himself.
I swallowed hard. “My landlord doesn’t allow pets.”
“That’s not true. When we made the house rules, you said you’d never asked.” Riggs proceeded into the living room, a cardboard box tucked under his arm. He lowered the cardboard box by the coffee table, and I saw that there was cat food, two bowls, and a little kitty bed there. “I’ll go back down to get the tray and litter in a sec, Micko.”