Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
It's not a long drive back to the house, though I do sort of wish the driver had taken the long way. I want to stay in this happy little bubble for as long as possible.
After that fluke thunderstorm we had last week, it seems like Mother Nature is finally getting her act together. There's a slight chill in the air by the time we exit the car in the front courtyard, and I take a deep breath, savoring the crispness that signals the approach of the fall weather. “I can't wait for Christmas,” I confess as we walk hand in hand through the front door.
“Why is that?”
“Well, one, I can't wait to decorate the house, and two cookies.”
“It's funny that you mentioned that. I haven't really gone all out in years, not like the way I used to when you girls were younger.” Yes, I remember when Tatum invited me to a Christmas party here. We were ten or eleven. The house was decorated, like something out of a dream, with giant trees in every room, and lights strung up everywhere, the whole nine yards.
“I always remember that when I think of Christmas. We should do it again.”
“We absolutely will. Whatever makes you happy.” He places a kiss on my forehead as we enter the front hall. “Besides, after this year, we'll have a little one to decorate for.” And I swear a happy tingle runs through me at the thought. I can hardly wait to see Callum holding a baby in his arms.
I come to a stop, forcing him to halt along with me, then take him by the lapels of his suit jacket and pull him in for a kiss. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me everything I ever wanted.”
We're both startled when the door leading to Tatum's wing opens. Right away, I let go of Callum, even taking a step back. I don't know why that's my immediate reaction, but I can only guess at some lingering guilt. Tatum says she's okay with us being together, but that doesn't mean I want to rub it in her face.
It's not Tatum who emerges, and a glance at Callum reveals his frown of confusion. “Is everything alright?” he asks Romero, who stops dead in his tracks at the sight of us.
“Oh, yes. She's fine.”
A question is on the tip of my tongue… are they? No, Tatum would tell me, but then why is he coming from her wing dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants?
“It's not what it looks like. I only wanted to check on her,” he explains.
I get this strange rumbling feeling in my stomach. Something's off here. “You know what? I'm going to check in on her,” I tell Callum. “I'll be up in a little bit.”
“Tell her I said goodnight.” Callum starts up the stairs without another word. Usually, he'd go straight to his office, so he really does plan to take the night off.
Romero's still standing in the doorway as I approach. “Okay. Tell me the truth. How is she, really? Because I swear, I can't get a straight answer out of her no matter how hard I try.”
He looks back over his shoulder toward her bedroom. Romero's known for his lack of emotion and feelings, yet I can see the concern etched into his features like stone. “She's been having nightmares.”
I sigh, leaning against the door frame. “Of course she has been. Who wouldn't?” I've had more than my share of them in the past few weeks.
“I happened to check in a few nights ago, when Sheryl asked me to take her some tea to help her sleep,” he explains. “I would've been on my way to my place otherwise. I'm glad things played out the way they did, or she would've been alone. She was sobbing in her sleep and let out a horrid scream when I woke her up.”
“Jesus.” And here I am, floating on Cloud Nine while she's suffering, slowly drowning in a pool of trauma.
“She doesn't want anybody to know. Not you, not Callum.”
“I guess that would explain why she never told me, but I feel like she never tells me anything anymore.” I frown, hating that I admitted such a thing to Romero.
“I've been sleeping in her office the past few nights,” he confesses. “I'd rather you not tell Callum, please. I don't want him to get the wrong idea. He'd rip my balls off and shove them down my throat if he thought… ”
“But he should know,” I insist. “He needs to know. She's being so damn stubborn. How are we supposed to help her if she won't let us?”
“I don't have a clue.” He runs a hand over his dark hair, sighing as he does. I get the feeling he cares more than he wants to let on. Maybe he feels sorry for her. Maybe if I wasn't here, Callum would have more time to put into helping her.