Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“And?” I ask, sensing her heartache, knowing I could help her, even a small amount. Hold her hand, let her feel the warmth of my body, a sign she’s not alone and never will be. She’ll never have to face anything alone.
“He wanted nothing to do with me,” Madison says, shrugging. “He lives in Spain now. He said he never wanted to be a dad. His life would be difficult, he said, if I suddenly showed up wanting attention. After that, I blocked him. I got the answer I needed.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“It’s fine.”
But it’s not fine. The pain in her voice tells me that.
Ignoring my steak, I do the thing I promised myself I wouldn’t. Reaching across the table, I take her hand, holding it so she can hopefully feel the protective intent inside of me, so she can sense the fact I’m never going anywhere.
She flinches, looking around.
“Don’t worry about everybody else,” I growl. “This is about you.”
She tightens her hold on my hand, our bodies communicating, half affection and half raw lust. The lust is background noise, always there, not what this moment is about, but it never leaves.
“He doesn’t deserve you if that was his response.”
“That’s what Mom said, but it still hurt. It doesn’t anymore, though. I’ve come to terms with it.”
I stroke my thumb over her knuckles.
“Has it put you off from having children?” I ask.
Her grip squeezes with more force. Her eyes flit to mine, then back to the table. I know I’ve said something wrong and upset her, but I’m not sure how.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Madison
When he asks me about kids, there’s something in his tone. Past the huskiness, it’s like I can hear an implication. It’s as if he knows the path my dreams have taken, the shapes I’ve carved out for the future.
“No,” I say after a pause, aware we’re still holding hands. There’s a thrill and there’s terror. I’ve got no clue how Mom would react if she saw this.
“It hasn’t put me off, I mean,” I continue. “I’ve always wanted a family. For as long as I can remember. Mom sometimes jokes I’ve wanted babies since I was a baby.”
He releases my hand. His face is doing that taut thing again. All his features get tight and fiery. When he gets like this, a way-too-hopeful part of me is convinced it’s because he wants me too badly. He can’t maintain contact, or he’ll lose control.
“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “How can you say that? I might crash and burn. I might be just as bad as my dad.”
“No,” he says, his tone offering an argument. “I can tell by how your face lit up. You’re going to be amazing.”
“My face lit up?” I say, laughing lightly. “Maybe I should get that checked out. I’ve never glowed before.”
It’s a lame joke, but somebody has to shatter the tense air between us. Even the atmosphere is attempting to pull us together as Jacob cuts into his steak, his knife making a soft sound against his plate and his hands tremble slightly.
“You were glowing,” he says seriously. “A maternal glow, some might call it.”
I return to my food, but I’d much rather be holding his hand despite the risk.
“I never knew you could get the pregnancy glow before you got pregnant,” I say.
“You better believe it,” he says fiercely. “I just witnessed it.”
“What about you? Do you want kids one day?”
Careful, Maddie. I warn myself. Hope is a dangerous thing here.
“Yes,” he says, looking at me firmly, staring with a hidden meaning behind his steely eyes. Or is that more wishful thinking?
“Then why have you never had any?” I say. “I’m sure you could’ve found a woman and settled down a long time ago.”
“Maybe I could have.”
“There’s no maybe about it. Have you ever read the comments on one of your videos? It’s not just me who’s had a crush on you.”
“Had, past tense?” He smirks, pushing away the fierceness. “Have I done something to turn you off?”
“The exact opposite, actually,” I say, looking at him as bravely as I can. “And now you’re changing the subject.”
“I never wanted to settle down for the sake of it,” he replies. “I always thought, one day, I’d find the right woman. I’d give her the world. I’d support her during her pregnancy, during childbirth, and after. I’d help with the kids. I’d give them and my wife the life they all deserved, but it never happened for me.”
I’m right here, Jacob. I can be that woman. It’s probably naïve—and more than a touch insane—to assume he’s speaking about me.
“Do your parents ever nag you for grandkids? Mom drops joking hints sometimes. I don’t think she expects me to get pregnant for years yet, really, though I know she’d support me if I did.”