Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
A reaction he couldn’t conceal for crap, at last. His head snapped up, and he raised his brows.
“Don’t look surprised,” I said. It was almost funny. “In the time you’ve been pushing me away, I’ve been trying to get closer. I’ve never made it a secret that you’re a big part of my life—of course I talk about you to others. I pretty much kidnapped you tonight. If that doesn’t scream I love you, I don’t know what does.”
Humor made me sound less bitter. I couldn’t help it. No amount of drunken confessions and indications could erase the hurt that sometimes resurfaced. It didn’t mean my ambitions or plans changed; it just meant that, sometimes, I was gonna remind him that he could be a right dick.
He released a breath and set down his fork. For several seconds, he stared at the bartop while he gathered his thoughts for a no-doubt punching reply. Or—maybe… Fuck it, I didn’t know. I had no fucking clue what was going through his mind.
Life would be so much easier if he just obeyed me. I wasn’t gonna pretend to have it all figured out, but… Here’s what it all boiled down to. I’d rather sort through a mess together than ignore it and go through life on my own. I was too goddamn old to pace myself. Too goddamn old to give another fuck about fears and worries, my own very much included.
“I was gonna apologize to you earlier,” he said quietly. “Before I saw an update from an Archie McMasters, I mean. I tried to twist my own words to justify them, but I knew the second I opened my mouth that I’d hurt you.” His sober tone sobered me up too, even though I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. “It was as if I left my body—I heard myself call your rule ridiculous, the one where you can’t have a partner who doesn’t love children. Despite the fact…”
That I didn’t have my own kids, yeah, I remembered.
He shook his head and kept his gaze downcast. “I was too pissed at first. I feel like a failure every goddamn day, and you throwing my financial situation in my face didn’t help. But I kept thinking—I kept hearing myself in my head, over and over…”
I swallowed a chunk of regret and remorse. That was me in a nutshell—if I got hurt, I could punch right back ten times harder. Not the most attractive trait.
Sloan sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “It was bullshit, wasn’t it?” he said tiredly. “I dare say you love my kids almost as much as I do. You’d walk through fire for them.” At that, he finally lifted his gaze and made eye contact. “You’d give your life for them.”
I didn’t need to answer. He already knew. And to be honest, my throat felt too thick all of a sudden. I had to save words for later.
“You may not have kids of your own, but you’re a dad to mine,” he said. “I’m sorry I haven’t acknowledged this sooner. I’m sorry I haven’t given you the credit you deserve—or the claim you’ve earned. I guess—in a way, over the years—you’ve adopted each other, you and the kids. They joke about you being their extra dad sometimes, except it’s not a joke at all.”
Hell. The fucker was gonna make me choke up. What kind of revenge was that?
“I don’t have an ounce of fight left in me, Shepherd,” he admitted. “If you want us to stay here, we will. Because I can’t make it on my own. I’m done living in denial. I have to face the reality—I’m a fucking failure.”
Oh, he’d started off so damn well. Then everything went south with that last sentence.
“If you truly believe that, I have my work cut out for me.” I watched the defeat flit across his expression, and I cracked my knuckles absently. “You and Carol had those kids together, Sloan. You had your damn plan. Being a single dad wasn’t part of it.”
“I know. I know all that. But what kind of parent—”
“Don’t even.” I shook my head, refusing to let him go there. “You, of all people, know what makes a good parent. You never would’ve put this much pressure on your own mother and how she struggled to make ends meet. You’ve done everything and more, Sloan. Please let me share the workload now. I want nothing more.”
He blew out another breath and made a tired go-ahead motion. “Like I said, I’ve run out of steam. I can’t fight you. I trust that you’ve thought this through properly—because I can’t move back and forth with my children.”
It wasn’t the right time to be insulted; he was a concerned dad. I got it. “If we do this my way, this’ll be their home till they’re off to college. Or boot camp.”