Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I don’t whisper. I slam into my girl, calling her name to the heavens and the lake ahead. “Fuck, Poppy.” I hit the peak and then fall back in the chair, still holding her by the hips. When she leans back, I kiss her shoulder and then once more, where bruising occurs from my earlier claiming of her. “Amazing.”
“Amazing.” Then she begins to laugh. Holding up her phone, she says, “Car’s ready.”
We got back late after stopping for dinner on the drive to LA, hitting up a restaurant where I got in and out without being recognized. It was a nice change to blend in and spend time with her without the interruption.
I chug a glass of water and grab my keys to sneak out of my house just after the sun rises to take care of business.
“Not going to say goodbye?” she asks, leaning against the corner to the hallway.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Where are you sneaking off to?”
I pause to think if this is something we should continue to talk about or if the paternity test is best left off the table. She knows where I stand. I know where she stands. We’re standing together, so does more need to be said?
Other than me knowing she has amnesia, I won’t hide anything else from her. With the amnesia, it’s best to hide the truth. With the paternity test, she should know. I tuck my wallet into my back pocket and reply, “Tommy’s reserved a lab before opening hours, so I can go in and take the test.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. Her little cotton shorts hug her hips, and a tank top clings to her chest. “No witnesses. No paparazzi. Probably best.”
I run my fingers through my hair, not sure what’s left to be said, so I ask, “Do you want to come with me?”
“No.” The early morning smile shines for me, making my heart ache that I’m putting her through this. “I think you should go on your own. Remember, there’s no pass or fail. Just a quick swab and—”
“My life changes forever or—”
“Carries on the same. I don’t see the downside either way.”
Walking to her, I hold her low around the waist on one side and caress her face with my other hand. “I don’t deserve you.” It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that I might not have been meant to be with her the first time. That this time around might be my redemption.
She cups my face, her pretty eyes searching mine, and then her smile reaches them. “You deserve the universe, babe. You just have to fight for it one day at a time.” Lifting to her bare toes, she kisses me, and in that kiss is where I see my forever. “Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Poppy?” I kick the door closed with my foot. I spy her on the phone, pacing by the swimming pool. I carry the coffees to the back and slide the door open.
Stopping with her back to me, she says, “Why?” Her tone is short when she continues, “Cosplaying as a cowboy makes no sense, Mom, especially for a wedding.” Her foot bounces, and her shoulders are tense. “That’s very nice that the Tuckers want to host the wedding, but—I get it. You want an adventure, but I can’t leave my life to be there all week.” She rolls her head on her neck to ease some tension, but I don’t think it’s working, so I set the coffees on the table. “You’re not listening, or you don’t care, which is it?”
I greet her by rubbing her shoulders. She startles but smiles just as quick. She turns to kiss me. It’s fast, but when her eyes connect with mine, I can see how happy she is to see me. She says, “I need to go. We’ll talk soon.” As soon as they disconnect, she throws her arms around my middle. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
She tosses the word home around like it’s her own. That makes my fucking week.
With her head pressed to my chest, I ask, “Everything okay?”
“No, my mom just informed me that their wedding has been moved to a destination event.”
She spots the coffees because I’m released, and she asks, “For me?”
“Yes. They’re the same so either works.”
“Thank you.” She takes a sip and then says, “She’s still expecting me to cater this massive event now a destination wedding.”
“You need boundaries in place.” I take the other coffee and mess with the lid. “Where’s the wedding going to be?”
A heavy sigh weighs on her entire being. Looking straight at me, she says, “Nashville.”
“Ah. Yeah, that complicates things.”
30
Laird
Two weeks later . . .
“Take it from the second chorus. I want to feel the riff, not just hear it.”
I stare at Rod sitting on the other side of the glass, not as amused as he appears. “My fingers are so fucking calloused, and you’ll still manage to make them bleed,” I speak into the microphone.