Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“What we have is a lie, you know it’s a fuckin’ lie. We’re havin’ an affair, and it’s gotten old. I can’t be with anyone else, can’t bring anyone home, can’t live a life because the woman I wanted is always at home with her husband. Not doin’ it anymore, I can’t.”
“I’ll leave,” she pleads. “I’ll go home and leave right now, I’ve told you that.”
“Then what?” he growls. “Come here and be an old lady? Put up with crime and bikers? You couldn’t last a fuckin’ night in my club.”
“Let me prove to you I can,” she begs. “I’ll come and spend a few days with you, prove I’m not what you think I am. I want to be with you, Beckett. It’s all I want. I need you to believe that.”
He goes silent and my chest tightens because I know he’s considering it. I know he cares about her, even though he’s hard, brutal and trying to make it seem otherwise. If he didn’t care he’d just throw her and text and be done with it, hell, he wouldn’t have ever gotten into this situation to begin with.
But he does care.
More than he’s willing to let on.
“Please, baby,” she murmurs, and I clench my eyes shut, because there goes that chest ache again.
“I’m goin’ away in the morning for a few days, let me think on it.”
“Where are you going?”
“Ride.”
“What about Poppy?”
“She’s comin’ with me.”
Silence.
Dead. Silence.
“She’s coming with you?” she whispers. “On your bike?”
“Can’t leave her here, Beck.”
“Yeah, but, you don’t even take me on your bike.”
“You’re married, we can’t go anywhere but the fuckin’ bedroom.”
Oh, that’s a hard hit.
“That’s not fair.”
He growls. “Look, this is a lot right now, and I can’t deal with it. I’m takin’ Poppy, then I’ll be back and we’ll talk.”
“I don’t want you to be alone with her.”
I swallow.
“You don’t get to tell me what I can do, when you lay beside another man each night.”
“Please,” she begs. “Promise me until we can talk, that you won’t do anything with her. Promise me that you’ll at least honor that.”
He goes silent again.
She’s good for throwing the demands around, that’s for sure.
“Fine, you have my word. Now, you need to go home because I need to sleep.”
I turn then and walk back to my bed, sitting on the edge of it. He’s promising her he won’t touch me, and I respect that, but why isn’t he just breaking it off with her? He obviously cares a lot more than he’s letting on to anyone else because he keeps falling back into her trap. She pleads with him and he goes to mush, and Beckett is anything but mush.
I can’t help the jealous feelings swirling around in my belly. I don’t even think if she knew about us, that she’d stop seeing him. She would no doubt tell herself that it’s because of the situation and forgive him. She’s clearly infatuated with him, and yet she seems to hold him at arm’s length until he threatens to leave. I wonder now if she’ll actually leave, and if she does, that will mean that whatever this is between Beckett and I will end.
Not that it’s anything to begin with, but there is a feeling there, at least for me, and I know how much it’s going to hurt if suddenly she’s his old lady and I’m forced to see it.
I rub at my tummy and wash my face, waiting in my room for a bit before heading out into the kitchen to grab a drink. Beckett is sitting on the sofa, staring at the television, beer in his hand even though it’s late. He looks to me when I walk out. “You hear all that?”
“No,” I say, acting like I didn’t hear a thing. “Just woke up for a drink. Everything okay?”
I could have told him I heard, but he doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for my opinion. That’s confirmed when he nods his head in response to my question and gives me nothing further. I figured as much.
“You should get some sleep before we leave tomorrow,” I say to him, once I’ve gotten my glass of water. I press my back against the kitchen counter and watch him.
He looks lost in a world he’s struggling to understanding, in feelings he’s struggling to piece together. Beckett is a smart man, but in this, he’s weak.
“I’ll sleep soon,” he murmurs, more to the television than to me.
“If you need to talk, let me know,” I say carefully. “I’m a good listener.”
He nods.
I go back to my room.
Well.
Maybe this trip isn’t going to be as good as I expect after all.
Poor Beckett, I actually do feel for him.
Yet, at the same time, I’m certain he’ll be better off without Becky.
If only he could see that.
THERE IS NOTHING QUITE like being on the back of a bike, with the wind blowing against you, the rumble between your legs and the freedom of not being closed in. I could sit here forever, even though my butt is numb, and my legs ache every few minutes. It wouldn’t matter if this is the last memory I ever had, because the feeling of freedom I get is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in this lifetime.