Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
The last several years of our sham of a marriage, I hadn’t been able to leave because I couldn’t abandon Noa. Which was ironic, considering I’d left like a fucking coward when everything had fallen apart—and I got it. I understood Noa had abandonment issues, but that wasn’t what Cam was doing now. He wasn’t leaving us. He was taking a much-needed breather to regain his footing.
My words struck Noa hard; that much was clear from his expression. He turned to look out the window, and he wiped at his cheeks each time tears rolled down.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to finish my coffee. It slid down with a nice helping of guilt—but I just couldn’t handle them having a falling-out tonight.
“We gotta get through this together, boys,” I said, checking my sideview mirror. Was that idiot gonna pass me or not? He’d been up my ass the past mile. “Now’s not the time to pick fights and get defensive. If you need to blame someone, look to the man in the hospital who’s currently having sex dreams about Ativan.”
Noa made a noise, a pinch of humor mingled with his hurt. “Great. Let’s blame the guy who almost died.” Maybe the last word made things too real because he crumpled and covered his face with his hands. “At least you tried to help him. I kept bringing him pizza and burgers!”
Aw, fuck.
“Freckles, we covered this,” I murmured. “This is not your fault. Lucian’s been putting too much pressure on himself since before you were born.”
Cam removed his seat belt and slid over to the middle seat, and he wrapped his arms around Noa. A sight that brought me a ton of relief.
“He made promises to you too, Noa,” Cam said quietly. “You just wanted to make him happy, and he kept saying he was fine. You had no reason not to trust him.”
I took a deep breath and allowed myself all the comfort in knowing that the boys were still solid. They hugged each other, comforted one another, wiped each other’s tears, and alternated between totally blaming Lucian for everything and missing him and wanting to nurse him back to health.
With the number of men in our relationship, I didn’t see any reason as to why Lucian wouldn’t receive all kinds of reactions after tomorrow. We’d fuss over him, we’d pamper and spoil him, we’d put our fucking feet down, we’d yell if we had to…
I furrowed my brow. We’d have to create some sort of balance so that we didn’t give him whiplash with the various extremes of our moods. For as long as Cam was cautious, I’d be the cushion. Noa would always jump from one mood to the next—and showcase it—but Lucian was going to need stability and peace in his recovery.
A little past midnight, we finally drove up the long dirt road to Greer’s farm. It wasn’t long ago we’d been here. Sloan had fixed an oil leak in Lucian’s Jag. Noa had tried to help Corey rake up dead leaves in the yard. Cam and Archie had baked together.
It was a homey place. The house had left me with a feeling I couldn’t say I got from our home, which Cam and I had talked about briefly. He kind of wanted to make some changes around the house, and considering I knew fuck-all about interior design, I’d said go for it. As long as my indoor pool area went untouched.
When Lucian and I had bought our house, the last thing on our minds had been colors and materials. I’d fixed my attention solely on the pool since it would be my personal workout station two hours every day, and Lucian had hired people to make the kitchen wheelchair-friendly. We’d had the kitchen island removed, mainly.
But I could admit something was missing. Noa and Cam hadn’t really left their marks yet. We were living in the catalogue home Lucian and I had randomly picked out. In retrospect, it gave off a few bachelor vibes—if the bachelors loved naked walls and cherrywood all over.
Greer had a number of dogs he’d adopted over the years, so I wasn’t surprised that our arrival was announced. Greer, Sloan, Archie, and Corey were waiting on the porch when I slowed down in front of the gate.
Finlay Ridge Family Farm.
From here, even in the dark, we could see the expansive front yard, the vegetable garden, the chicken coop, swing set, and creek.
Cam climbed out as I killed the engine, and Noa offered me my cane between the seats.
“Are you sure you should get out, Daddy?” he asked. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”
“Another five minutes won’t make a difference—but I’ll be cuddling you half to death in our bed as soon as we get home.”
He flashed me the first genuine grin all evening and zipped up his jacket.