Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Money always fucking won, didn’t it? I wasn’t good enough as plain old Diesel Church. I’d spent the whole day trying to trust the lawyers and trust the Partridge family, and now here I was getting ready to basically hand my baby from one rich family to another.
Why wasn’t I good enough for her as just me?
I yanked open the passenger-side door and stopped feeling sorry for myself long enough to hand Parrish up into the truck before slamming the door closed and going to the driver’s side.
When we got out of the garage and through the city streets to the interstate, I finally had to face facts. I’d gotten us into this mess, and now poor Parrish had gone down a road he’d never be able to erase from his personal history. He’d never be able to tell someone he’d never been married before. Maybe it was a marriage only on paper, but it would forever be part of his legal history now. And if… if they gave custody of Marigold to both of us… the thought turned my stomach.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to be a part of her life. I did. But what if his family suddenly decided I wasn’t good enough? Wouldn’t they be able to help him get custody of her?
He would never take her from you.
I ground my back teeth together. How could I trust a man whose address I didn’t even know? How stupid was I being right now?
“Pull over,” Parrish said in a soft voice.
“’M fine.”
“Pull. The fuck. Over.”
I turned to find his fists clenched on his lap and his lips pursed in anger. His little nostrils flared, and I knew I was in for a tongue-lashing.
After pulling to the side of the country highway we’d turned onto, I threw the truck into Park. “What?”
Parrish lurched across the center console and grabbed the front of my dress shirt. “Talk to me! Yell at me! Tell me you don’t want this. God, Diesel, please don’t shut me out. You’re practically levitating with tension, but you won’t say a damned thing to me.”
Part of me wanted to tell him I loved him, that half the reason I was so upset was because I was being handed a giant ice cream sundae but no spoon. He was everything I ever wanted. This, this was everything I ever wanted. But it wasn’t real. It was a legal illusion meant to last only long enough for the custody hearing.
And what the hell was I supposed to do then? Just let him go? Divorce the sweetest, kindest man in the world and go back to being just friends? It was laughable. I’d never survive it.
“I’m grateful,” I finally managed to say. “For everything you’re doing. I can’t—” My voice cracked. “I can’t ever repay you, so I feel… I feel like…” I closed my mouth and shook my head.
“Don’t you understand I would do anything for you? And, um… Marigold?” Parrish’s voice was a whisper between us, a confession in the stillness of the clear September afternoon. Rows and rows of dried-out corn husks sat next to us in the field, baking under the sun’s rays, and there wasn’t even another car around as far as the eye could see.
I leaned forward and kissed him. I was sure he meant what he said, or thought he did, but there was no way I could let myself believe he meant staying with me and making this real. If I was going to get through this, I needed some space.
When I pulled back from the kiss, I gave him the best smile I could manage. “Forgive me for being in my head, okay? It’s a lot.”
Parrish nodded. “I know. But just talk to me, alright? I hate wondering what you’re thinking. I’d rather you be mad than quiet.”
I put the truck back in gear and shot him a small smile. “I can’t really imagine being mad at you.”
He chuckled. “You just haven’t known me long enough. Give it time.”
Maybe that was part of my problem. Maybe I was falling too hard and too fast for him because we’d practically been in each other’s pockets since all of this started. I needed time and space to myself.
When I pulled into the lot behind the B&B, he turned to me with a frown. “Why are we here? I packed a bag already, remember?”
I looked out the window and noticed a familiar face peering over the fence from the backyard of the bed-and-breakfast. I vaguely remembered Miss Sara from one of the aunts’ book club meetings. She’d been around when I was a teen, but I hadn’t given her—or any adult, really—the time of day.
“I know, but I…” I looked at him and came this close to caving, to pulling him into my arms and holding him as tightly as possible. “I need some time to think about all of this. I need some time alone with Marigold. It’s not you, I promise.”