Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
A heavy sigh left her. “Yes. You both do things for each other.”
“Brooke, in a healthy relationship, you accept each other’s limitations and are happy to let your partner help you through yours. You’re also happy to help your partner navigate theirs. That doesn’t make you weak. Doesn’t mean you can’t grow or improve on things you feel are your inadequacies, but it means you feel safe enough to share them. Because in a healthy relationship, your partner won’t make you feel ashamed of yourself. No one is perfect. No one is an island. No one can do it all on their own. Not even you, my friend. And I hope that someday you realize it’s okay to let someone in, to be vulnerable in front of the right person, and to let go of your rigid control. Because when it’s the right person, it’s not only a relief to have someone to share life’s burdens, it’s beautiful.”
Tears prickled at the edges of Brooke’s eyes. When she met Evan, she’d wished for what Brooke described. She’d hoped life with him would be exactly that. But it’d all gone so incredibly wrong.
Nancy pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Come one, let’s get the dogs settled, go inside, get drunk, and watch a movie. David isn’t picking me up for another few hours.”
“Sounds good,” she said, and if Nancy noticed the tremor in her voice, she kindly ignored it.
They queued up Bridesmaids, their all-time favorite, but Brooke found she couldn’t concentrate on a single minute of the hilarity. Her friend’s words ran through her head over and over. Could she do it? Could she let a man into her life, her mind, and her heart?
Not just a man, but Curly. If she were candid, she’d have to admit she’d already let him in more than anyone in five years.
Sometime after the first half of the movie and one more margarita, Brooke fell asleep with a terrifying truth bouncing around in her head.
It didn’t matter how hard she denied it. She’d already fallen for the biker with the curly hair and the tragic past.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
INCESSANT BARKING REVERBERATED through Brooke’s foggy head. “Ray, quit it,” she mumbled as she tried to roll over but almost fell off the bed.
“Seriously, buddy, what the hell?” Nancy groaned.
Nancy? Why was Nancy in her bed?
As she fluttered her eyes open, then blinked into the dark space. This wasn’t her bedroom. After a few seconds, the glow of the television jogged her memory. They’d been watching a movie in the den and had both passed out on the couch before it ended. It couldn’t be too late because David hadn’t shown up to collect his wife yet.
Ray’s barking continued, loud, aggressive, and unrelenting. The hair on the back of Brooke’s neck rose along with a twist of unease in her stomach. That wasn’t a normal, squirrel-sighting bark. It was a something’s-very-wrong bark.
Nancy sat up, pushing a hand through her hair. “What is going on with him?” she yelled over Ray’s continued and furious barking. “He never acts like this.”
No, he didn’t, which explained the sudden heaviness of dread in Brooke’s heart. Something had to be very off for Ray to be in such an alarmed state.
He stood at her French doors with his ears pointing straight back, his body poised as though ready to tear across the yard if she opened the door. His bark morphed into a snarl as though there were an intrud—“Oh, my God!” The last vestiges of sleep vanished in an instant as Brooke shot to her feet and raced toward the French doors. “Maybe he saw the person who’s been leaving notes.”
It couldn’t have been Prick himself since he was at the dog fight, but that asshole could easily have paid someone to scale her fence and tack a note to her kennel. In fact, he’d probably hired someone to leave all of them so he could claim innocence.
The chicken shit. And now whoever it was had been spotted by Ray. “Good boy,” she said, patting his head as she reached for the door handles.
“Are you crazy?” Nancy shrieked the second Brooke yanked the doors open. “Don’t go out there if you think someone might be in your yard.” She darted over.
“I have to. This is my home. Ray, heel,” she ordered, and for the first time more than five years, he disobeyed her stern command. Barking like a maniac, Ray shot out the door into the lanai, then through the doggie door into the backyard. He raced toward the kennel, growling so loud he’d wake the neighbors.
“Ray, stop!” She shouted as she ran after him. What if the trespasser was still out there, and they hurt her baby? Or any of the dogs? The thought had her pushing faster. She’d never forgive herself if Ray encountered someone who hurt him.