Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
But fuck… I kind of blame her now. Where is my hotheaded temptress who tries to seduce me back into being a husband? Or the woman who gets in my face and yells at how stupid I’ve been?
When Simone first found out about my dad, I panicked and tried to push her out of my life. Our relationship was new and I was so fucking ashamed of who I was.
“Just stay the fuck away from me,” I snarled at her. All my walls were going back up, my instinct to protect myself overwhelming me.
Did she stay away? No.
She ran at me, her petite body slamming into mine, and she wrapped her arms around me tight. She clung to me, pressing her face into my chest, and squeezed me so tight I thought she’d crack a rib.
I didn’t reciprocate the hug. I was frozen in fear.
“You better hold me, you motherfucker,” she growled, and it was the fiercest, most intimidating thing anyone had ever said to me. “I know you, Van Turner. And I think you’re mighty fine. Don’t you even think about telling me I deserve better, or that you don’t have anything to give me. At the very least, you better sure as fuck keep giving me what you’ve been giving me, and if I had my way, you’d talk to me and tell me everything.”
That was probably the moment I fell a little in love with my wife. Demanding I give her what she deserved and feeling like I deserved her in return.
“I’m not surprised,” I finally muttered, wrapping my arms around her.
She looked up at me. “By what?”
“That you won’t take no for an answer. You’re relentless.”
Where the hell did my brat go? There’s no way she could have given up. It’s not in her makeup.
I pull out my phone and call the one person I know will know where Simone is and who will be willing to talk to me.
Anna answers on the second ring. “Hi, Van.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb blond with me, Anna. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
Anna laughs. “She went back to Vermont.”
Even though I knew that, it still fucking hurts to hear it. “But… why?”
“Probably because you’re a big fucking dum-dum.”
I nearly choke as I bark out a laugh, so surprised to hear Anna drop an f-bomb and dum-dum in the same sentence. “Yeah… that I am,” I assure her. “When did she leave?”
“Night before last. Are you going to call her?”
“No,” I reply and I hear a sharp gasp of dismay from Anna. “Calling won’t be good enough. I’ll need to grovel and that can only be done in person.”
“But she’s in Vermont. You’re in Pittsburgh. You’ve got a home game tomorrow night.”
That is indeed a problem. “I’ll look into chartering a plane. It can’t be more than a couple of hours’ flight time. Surely I can fly there, win my wife back and get back home to Pittsburgh in twenty-four hours, right?”
Anna’s silent a moment, then says, “If you can’t find a private charter, call me back. I’ll see if I can requisition one of Jameson’s planes.”
“Thanks, Anna.” My voice is gruff with emotion that she’s willing to help me out, especially since I know her husband wouldn’t lift a pinkie finger. “I’ll reach out to Brienne first to see if she’s got some contacts, but I’ll let you know if I run up against a wall.”
“Good luck, Van. But something tells me you’re not going to need it.” She laughs to herself and adds, “I’d still grovel if I were you.”
CHAPTER 17
Simone
Poking at the burning logs in the fireplace, I watch the sparks fly upward, thinking they’re hell’s little fireflies. There’s room for another log so I add one. We never go to sleep while a wood fire is still burning but I’m wide awake and know I can outlast it this evening.
The temperatures dipped way low tonight and I’m feeling the chill of the teen numbers outside. There’s no shame when nine o’clock rolls around and I’m snug in my fleece pajamas and fuzzy socks, I make myself a cup of hot cocoa the best way… with heavy cream, sugar, Ghirardelli chocolate and a dash of cayenne pepper to warm me up from the inside. Van taught me how to make it that way and he learned it from Etta.
When I’m settled on the couch and holding the steaming mug before me, I look down at my belly and give it a slow rub. “Don’t worry, little baby… I went light on the pepper. Still, I hope you come out as spicy as me.”
I grin, thinking about all the ways my life is going to change. My heart flutters sweetly when I think about all the love I have to give to this child.