Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
“Not possible. I barely left the hospital. They came once.”
“You must have just missed each other then. I’m the guy who was laid up with nothing better to do than listen to people talk,” he says, tossing his body back against the pillows.
“I don’t believe she apologized. She fought with me like crazy in the hall.”
Somehow, he laughs.
“You just have a hard time concealing your venom, and Olivia was never one to take shit.”
I don’t answer.
Arguing with him won’t do either of us any good.
“Seeing me so busted must have stroked whatever mouse-sized soul she has left,” he says. “She apologized for everything and said as soon as I’m well, she’ll make sure I see Micha again. We’ll never be best friends or whatever, but I can respect that.”
I stand slowly, pulling at my shirt.
“Respect? After everything she’s done to you, you’re going to forgive her? She was crying over a man in a coma. Who knows if she’ll follow through—though I hope she will.”
Wyatt looks up at the ceiling and laughs, falling into a brief coughing fit.
“Careful,” I whisper. “You know, it’s not important—”
“Burns. How have you survived on the planet this long? You really are clueless. Forgiveness is earned. I don’t want a second chance with Olivia. But for my family’s sake? Yeah, that apology is the start of something better for everyone.” He pauses, stroking his beard. “Now that you’ve burned up my energy, I need to sleep.”
He rolls over and turns his back to me.
Goddamn, this is frustrating, but he’s also right.
Wyatt isn’t furious at Olivia anymore. I am.
What if she’s not his personal Satan?
Maybe I am a certified fool.
What if I’d tried harder to work through my crap, my constant doubts about love? Would I still have Dakota Poe warming my bed?
I hate that I’ll never know.
I might never stop regretting what I did to her, either.
A Regis roll stares up at me from Mom’s best china like it’s a radioactive tumor on a plate.
I don’t go to Sweeter Grind anymore.
Since I’ve finally got Wyatt expanding his palate beyond pure sugar and it reminds me of Dakota like a knife to the face, there’s no need.
Thank God.
Ma, on the other hand, still damn near worships the things. She bites her roll in half with an excited smile, chewing as she looks at me.
“Are you okay, Lincoln?” she asks after she swallows.
“I’m peachy.” I’m just not here.
I’m still beside a campfire with Dakota in a homeless camp.
I’m still watching her eyes glisten in the rain.
I’m still on a moonlit overlook, trying to kiss her, but some jackass who can’t buy a muffler steals my thunder.
I’m still driving into her, a gentle hand on her throat, waiting until she looks at me before I unload inside her so hard I see stars.
I’m—
Pulling my head out of the gutter, apparently. Because I’m having coffee with my mom and pretending to stuff a mess of sugar into my mouth.
“You’ve barely touched your cinnamon roll or your coffee. No appetite today?”
“I’m fine, Ma. Just not hungry.”
“I’m worried about you, Lincoln. You should be learning to unwind without a company to manage. This past month is probably the only time in your life where you haven’t been workaholicking.”
I look up. “You can’t make workaholic a verb, Ma.”
“I just did,” she says, putting her fork down with a decisive clatter.
I shake my head, muttering under my breath.
“Okay. Whatever. It’s not like this is a vacation. It may be the rest of my life,” I tell her. “Plus, Wyatt still needs a lot of care.”
Mom nods. “You’re a good man, Lincoln, which is why I don’t understand how you could be so horrible to that poor girl.”
Oh, yeah. Here the fuck we go.
“I told you, I did the best I could. I left her a better job than the one she had. I would have made her a frigging exec if it were up to me, but she doesn’t have a lot of experience at that level, so I couldn’t force it.”
“The job makes her miserable, son. She didn’t even show a flicker of excitement about the profit share I gave her.”
That grabs my attention.
“What? She told you that?”
“She didn’t have to. She was pale, Lincoln, minus the dark lines under her eyes...”
I rattle a fist under the table, wishing I had one of those stress balls right now.
“Ma, just because you think something doesn’t mean it’s true. You thought the fake wedding was a good idea.”
“In another universe, it might have been. One where Miss Poe didn’t have a stalker and you didn’t have such a sorry past that turned you into a short-fused grizzly bear.”
Damn. I roll my eyes.
Everyone’s calling me names today.
“I did the best I could for Dakota, all right? I even had you pitch her that fee out of my stake in the company, didn’t I?” I take a loud slurp of coffee to shut my yap.