Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
Dinner was roasting in the oven while the sides were in the pots and pans on top of the stove. I’d never been much of a cook, but my new life had turned me into a chef. Claire didn’t seem to mind it anymore, and I was quite proud of myself for all the progress I’d made. When it had been just me alone in my apartment, I might have thrown together a sandwich, but that was the extent of my abilities.
Benton emerged from the hallway, but he wasn’t shirtless and barefoot anymore. He was in his jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—which meant only one thing.
“You’re leaving?”
He walked up to me, intense blue eyes piercing me the second they made contact. It was always that way, like he could latch on to me without touching me. He never gave an answer—at least not a verbal one.
“We haven’t even had dinner yet.” Domestic bliss was shattered, and I turned into an angry wife who hated to watch her husband go. The only reason Claire and I were there was because of the sacrifice he’d made—but I didn’t want him to pay the price anymore. I hated that he was gone most nights, and I slept alone in his bed, listening to every little sound in the house.
“I have a long night ahead of me.”
I kept the protest locked away in my throat, but I was certain my eyes gave away my disappointment.
He talked to Claire for a bit before he said goodbye.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He hesitated before he answered, as if speaking a lie was insufferable. “Work.”
“I thought you builded things?”
“I do. It’s a big project, so it needs to be done overnight. And it’s built.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead before he opened the cabinet and pulled out the garbage so he could take it out before he left. Before he tied the strings together, he stilled.
“What?” I asked.
He reached inside and pulled out the small box of cookies. His eyes immediately went to me, accusatory.
I was prepared to lie and say those were just for me, but Claire gave us away. “Uh oh…”
His eyes moved to hers before he tossed the box back into the garbage can. He tied the strings and lifted it to carry it into the garage. The door shut, and he was gone.
Claire immediately turned to me. “Daddy’s gonna be mad…”
Benton returned and washed his hands in the sink.
I came to his side and leaned against the counter. “We were grocery shopping—”
“I didn’t ask for an excuse, so don’t give one.” He patted his hands dry with the towel and didn’t look at me. “She had way too many sweets over the holiday break, and if she’s asking for sweets, especially before dinner, then she’s had even more sweets than I realized.”
“It was a just one-time thing—”
“Don’t let it happen again.” He tossed the towel on the counter and headed to the front door.
Claire kept her head down at the dining table, as if her father would somehow forget she was there.
I followed him to the front door. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh—”
“I haven’t even raised my voice, so you’ve never seen me harsh.” His eyes bored into mine, enraged.
My arms crossed over my chest, and I didn’t back away. “It was just a spontaneous thing—”
“Did I ask for a list of excuses—”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
His jaw hardened as well as his eyes.
“I’m not feeding her sweets all the time, so calm the fuck down. I take good care of your daughter, so get off my ass. I’ve earned enough autonomy at this point that I can buy her a box of cookies whenever I feel like it, alright? I’m not sorry—but you should be. Talk to me like that again—”
He yanked me into him and crushed a kiss against my mouth. His arm squeezed my lower back as he tugged me hard, and then his hand moved to my ass and gave it a strong squeeze.
It was as if the fight had never happened. My fingers were in his hair, my tongue was in his mouth, his dick was hard against my stomach.
Then he abruptly walked out without saying a word.
I sat across from Claire at the dining table, the platters of food between us. Benton was usually at the head of the table, but the seat was now vacant. I’d made Claire a plate, but she hadn’t touched a single thing. She just sat there, her elbows on the table, her chin in a palm.
“Honey, why aren’t you eating?”
She shrugged. “Not hungry.”
Maybe Benton was right. I shouldn’t have given her those cookies after all. “You need to eat something, so at least take a few bites.” I took a few bites of chicken and then the scalloped potatoes.