Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Just then, Connall walks up to her and says hello to us in the video. “Hi, ladies.”
“Hi, Connall!” Jan and I answer.
“It is time for my wife and I to go and get out of the house.” She frowns like she always does when he gets bossy. When he walks away, she smiles. I am sometimes envious of their marriages, but then I remember I have Juniper, and everything seems like it happened for a reason. Speaking of the wild one.
“Hi, Auntie January. Hi Auntie February.”
“I, sweetie. Are you excited to go to your great-grandpa's house?”
“Yes. You have no idea. But mom is taking forever,” she says, being very dramatic. The three of us giggle.
“Well, that is not okay,” Jan says, feeding into her hysteria. Rolling my eyes at her, I ask Juniper if she has, Floppy and Floopy, her favorite stuffed animals, and when she gasps, I assume that means she forgot. She runs out of the room like her pants are on fire.
“As you can see that girl is going crazy.” They both giggle and nod their heads.
“Well obviously you need to finish so you get out of there before her head starts spinning around. So call us after every stop and update us. We are going to be worried about you being alone.” Smiling, I nod my head and promise I will.
Pulling up the hand of my suitcase, I begin rolling it to the front door. “Junie, I am ready.”
She literally zooms into the room, holding her tiny bag. She doesn’t need a suitcase because my grandfather always takes her clothes shopping when she gets there. Not to mention shopping for anything else she needs. Did I mention he spoils her rotten?
Making sure I have my keys and wallet; I open the front door to a man about to knock on it. I open my mouth to ask him if I can help him because surely this sexy God has the wrong house. But then he looks right at me; there is no mistaking those eyes. I look into them every single day. “Joshua.”
Holy Shit!
CHAPTER
TWO
JOSHUA
“Hey, Peaches,” I say, calling her the nickname I always called her. The name I’ve called her, even in my dreams. I give an air of nonchalance, but all I want to do is pull her into my arms and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her.
“Don’t call me that, Joshua.” She looks even more beautiful when she’s angry. I want to put her over my damn knee. She has no fucking right to be angry.
“That’s pretty formal,” I say, feeling like I am finally able to breathe after so long without seeing her. A weight has been lifted off of my chest, but at the same time, another one drops on me. Why did she do it? Why did she destroy us?
“What do you mean?”
“What happened to Joshie?” She always called me Joshie, never Joshua. It was us against the world until it wasn’t.
“He grew up.”
“Aww, Peaches, you grew up real good too.” She’s even more beautiful than she was in high school. She’s thicker, her boobs are bigger. The weight looks good on her.
“You have no right to call me that anymore.”
“I have every fucking right to call you that, March. You’re the one who left me.”
“Mommy! I’m ready to go!”
I look down and see an adorable little girl clinging to March’s shirt.
“Mommy?” I question.
“Yes. Mommy. Go make sure you have everything, baby. We aren’t coming back if you forget something.”
“Okay, Mommy.” The little girl flits off, leaving March standing in the doorway and me on the porch, my stupid fucking heart broken. Without thinking, I take a step toward her.
“You fucked another man?” I ask, harsher than I intend to. I see red. My blood boils, and I can’t believe it. When we were together, we made promises. I guess those were promises only I intended to keep. My mind reels as I picture her under someone else, moaning so prettily for him, giving him what was supposed to be only mine. My fist clenches involuntarily at my side. I want to punch something. The wall or something inanimate. Not her; I could never hurt her.
“What?” She seems appalled that I’d even ask that question, but I’m the wronged party here.
“I can’t fucking believe that you fucked someone else,” I say, my voice deathly quiet, but I don’t stop there. I can’t. “Jesus, March, I thought you were fucking dead. You disappeared without a trace. I grieved the loss of you in my life. You were my whole life, and then you were gone. Do you have any idea what that was like for me? I never got over you; I never stopped loving you but not you. You…” I can’t even finish the sentence. It doesn’t matter what she thinks she’s got going on here. Despite this soul-crushing revelation, she’s still mine. I’d die for her. We can get past this; I know we can.