Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Always so smooth and sleek and straight, it’d been down to her mid-back when I’d met her—and was left by her. Now, it was a little shorter, but not by much.
I tightened my hand around the high chair and started walking, knowing I had no choice but to pass by them.
Rome had probably seen me the moment that I’d sat down, though.
He’d always had a sixth sense when it’d come to me—as I had him. Though that was long gone now, but when we were kids and we were growing up together—he’d been my best friend in the whole wide world.
Through high school and then the marines…he was there for me. He was the one person I could always count on.
Now, not so much.
“Rome.” I nodded my head at him.
Rome, eyes wide, said, “Tyler.”
His eyes went to the woman I could feel at my back, the baby in my arms and then me.
I knew what he was assuming—that this was our family.
You couldn’t tell that she was Henley’s—mostly because her kids were at different ages. It was easy to assume.
I kept walking and set the high chair down next to an open spot where Alana had made room for it and Reagan had done the same over by Henley.
My sisters didn’t waste time and didn’t care that Reagan was there, they started right in.
“Oh my God. Did you see that look that Tara gave you?” Henley whispered wide-eyed. “And I thought Rome was going to cry. By the way, Rome is a professional football player. That’s probably why he looks so beat up.”
That was true. I’d seen the deep-seated sorrow in Rome’s eyes.
He didn’t want to be where he was. He regretted it.
Well, I wasn’t the one who left—who did what he did. That was all him.
And I had no control over his thoughts and actions.
I shrugged and took a seat, all the while Henley and Alana spoke, not caring that likely Tara and Rome could hear them, or that Reagan was still right there.
Shit.
“I mean, he was the one who cheated with your girlfriend. The least he could do is not talk to you. But, every time I see him in town, he asks about you, wants to know how you’re doing. Acting like he didn’t commit the ultimate betrayal as a friend.” Alana shook her head. “I saw them at the bank last week. He did not look happy to be standing next to her and when he got a couple thousand dollars cash out and handed it over to her, he looked like he wanted to throttle her.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Instead, I studied the woman that was still standing there, looking at me like she was trying to figure me out.
Good luck.
Even I couldn’t figure me out.
Noisily, Reagan pulled out a chair that was guaranteed to draw every single eye in the entire restaurant due to how much racket she made and took a seat at my side.
Then she leaned forward, placing her mouth near my ear.
“Don’t think that this makes me like you anymore,” Reagan hissed. “I hate you, but I’m doing this because you look pathetic.”
I felt my lips twitch as I turned to look at Reagan. Our faces were within inches of each other’s and if I moved forward even a little bit, our lips would be touching.
Momentarily, I forgot that Rome and Tara were even in the room. Instead, I focused on the woman that was sitting there, all piss and vinegar, looking like she was ready to fight me.
Her five-foot-three-inch, one-hundred-twenty-pound self thought she could best me?
That was almost comical.
And I say almost because she honestly looked like she’d try to take me. She wouldn’t win, of course…but she’d give it her best shot.
“What makes you think that I want—or even need—your help?” I questioned. “I’ve been doing just fine for thirty-five years, darlin’. I can keep living my life without your haughty input or your glares.”
Then I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers.
She let me and I felt something inside of me zing to life. Something I hadn’t felt since Tara.
We both pulled back—the lip touch so small and sweet that it might’ve barely registered if I hadn’t felt that spark—and stared at each other.
She was narrowing her eyes at me and I was grinning like a fool.
I heard a glass break somewhere in the vicinity of Tara and Rome’s table and I knew that something we’d done had gotten to one or the other—maybe both.
I didn’t care one goddamn bit about the two of them, though.
I just wanted my lips back on hers.
Then the baby in my arms started to squirm and I leaned away from her.
“That was epic,” Henley breathed. “I can’t believe you did that. Who are you again?”
I rolled my eyes. “Henley, Alana, this is my trespasser, Reagan. Trespasser, these are my sisters, Henley on your left, with the eighteen children and Alana, right. The little girl in the high chair is Alana’s daughter, Autumn.”