Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Me, either,” I say, wanting to tell him I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him, in fact. But this isn’t the time. I don’t want the memory of the first time I say those words to be tangled up in this mess. Instead, I squeeze his hand, and promise, “We’ll handle this. Whatever it is. We’re tougher than we look.”
His lips hook up on one side. “You, maybe. I look super tough. It’s one of the first things people notice about me.”
“Especially in pajama pants with tiny cows all over them,” I say.
He shrugs. “They were a prank gift from a friend at the Vermont office. I need to do laundry.”
“I love them,” I whisper, letting him draw me against him. I rest my face against his chest, still warm from our shower beneath his white cotton shirt and draw his strength into my soul.
I’m about to pull back to head outside when my phone dings again.
I look down to see another text from Noelle—Please call me, Syd! I just took a sewing break to check in with the boys, and Ben said Adrian’s on his way to his dad’s place right now. He could be there any second!
I jerk my gaze up to Gideon, who’s reading over my shoulder.
“Call her while I get dressed,” he says, backing toward the bedroom. “You should get dressed, too.”
I hurry toward the couch, snatching my dress and sweater off the cushions, my heart racing nearly as fast as my thoughts. But before I can dash into the bedroom or call Noelle or remember if I have mascara in my purse—I always feel more confident with a fresh coat of mascara—there’s a sharp thud on the door.
A beat later, Adrian calls out, “I’m coming in. In case the two of you want to put on some clothes.”
thirty
GIDEON
I hear Adrian’s voice and curse again, my upper lip breaking out in a sweat as I jerk my jeans up around my hips. I scan the closet floor for shoes, but I’ve left them all by the door. If Adrian wants to get physical, I guess I’ll be fighting my son in my socked feet.
Fuck! I don’t want to fight my son.
I don’t want to hurt Adrian in any way. That’s why I wanted to find the perfect moment, the perfect words to explain how I came to be dating his ex-girlfriend and why I can’t stop.
But Angela took that away from me. I’m not sure how, but she obviously got to our son, a fact that’s underlined in glaring red ink as I head out to the living room to see Adrian pick up the flower arrangement Angela sent and hurl it across the room.
Sydney cries out in surprise, her hands instinctively flying up to shield her face as the vase explodes against the thicker glass of the windows, sending shards of glass, flowers, and water flying into the air. Thankfully, the explosion happened far enough away from her that she’s in no danger, but the way her arms tremble as they drop to her sides makes my stomach roil.
“That’s enough,” I say in a firm voice, positioning myself between Syd and my red-faced son. “Go into the bedroom, Sydney, and lock the door.”
“Stop it, I’m not going to hurt her,” Adrian says, turning his puffy gaze my way. “Or you.”
He’s obviously been crying, a fact that intensifies the pain in my gut. But as much as I want to comfort him, Sydney’s well-being is my top priority. She did absolutely nothing wrong here. She’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of a situation that makes her feel unsafe.
“All right,” I say, casting a pointed glance toward the mess on the floor. “When I’m sure of that, Sydney can come out of the bedroom. If she wants to.”
“I’m fine,” she says, moving around my outstretched arm to stand beside me. “I don’t need protection from Adrian. Or…whatever’s going on. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Noelle, Adrian. We don’t know what happened with your mom and all that, but we’re sorry. We weren’t trying to be sneaky or cruel. We were just worried about you having too much on your plate. We planned to tell you we were dating as soon as the mess with Gigi was over.”
Adrian winces. “Yeah, well, that won’t be any time soon. She cancelled the DNA test and is engaged to Brett Lauder. Fucking Brett. She’d rather be with a guy named Brett, with a coke habit, a weak chin, and a bad bleach job, than with me.” He swallows, his throat visibly working before he adds, “And that’s after I told her I didn’t care about the results. Yes, I wanted the test, so we could know who the father is for sure, but I told her I didn’t care if the baby was mine. I still wanted to be with her, to try to be a family.”