Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
I stood in the guest bedroom on the second floor, watching her through the mostly closed blinds as she packed up her car. It felt wrong for a thousand reasons. Josie had just loaded a box into the backseat. She stopped halfway to the door and used the back of her hand to wipe sweat from her forehead.
“Why don’t you open the blinds?” she yelled while looking straight ahead. “It’s less creepy.”
Shit. I jumped out of the window’s view, my back flush to the wall next to it. My heart pumped like a criminal who’d just gotten caught red-handed. Fuck. Maybe I was one. After I caught my breath, I leaned forward and chanced a quick look outside. Josie was walking out of the house with another box, and it looked like she was struggling to carry it. Halfway to the car, it fell, toppled over, and the cardboard busted. Shit started to roll down the driveway.
Fuck. I can’t watch this. I jogged over like some kind of hero and started to scoop shit up with her. Josie held up a hand, without looking up. “I got it.”
“Just let me help.”
“You’ve done enough.”
“Jos…”
She looked up and narrowed her eyes, like they were loaded with daggers she was trying to shoot at me. But it was the things she couldn’t cover up that made my chest ache. Her eyes were swollen from crying and rimmed with dark circles.
“No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to Jos me, like I’m the one being ridiculous. You’re the one being ridiculous. You haven’t looked my way in two weeks, and then today you run over here like I’m some sort of damsel in distress. I’m not. I don’t need your help, and I don’t want it. You only want to make yourself feel better.”
I stayed kneeled down next to the box while she hastily tossed shit inside, not knowing my next move. But the next move wasn’t mine, apparently, it was Josie’s.
She stood, smacked dust from her hands, and marched into the house. Since she didn’t slam the door behind her, I took that as a sign she was coming back out. For all I knew, she might be getting a bat to hit me over the head, and part of me hoped that was what she was doing, because I deserved it. But what she came back with hurt much worse.
Josie held out a check. “I looked up how much all the work you did around the house would have cost. This should cover it.”
When I didn’t lift my arm to take the check from her hand, she waved it around as her voice climbed a few octaves. “Take the damn check.”
I stood. “I’m not taking the check, Josie.”
She shoved it into my chest. “Take the damn check!”
I held my hands up and took a step back. “I’m not taking the damn check. I did that work because I care about you and wanted to. Not because it was a job.”
“You care about me.” She laughed maniacally. “You mean cared. Past tense.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No? Then tell me what it’s like, Fox. Because one minute we were spending a weekend at a bed and breakfast and you were making love to me, and the next I was tossed to the curb like garbage.”
I dug both hands into my hair, yanking. “This is what’s best for you.”
“Best for me? You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
There was nothing I could say that she wouldn’t toss back at me. She didn’t understand how things worked out with a selfish bastard like me. Evie hadn’t known either. I hung my head. “I’m sorry.”
She softened. “I am, too. Will you please take this check?”
“I’ll take it, but I’m not cashing it.”
That seemed to pacify her for now. I shoved the check into my pocket, and she marched into the house again. When she came back out, I leaned forward and snuck a peek inside. The house was empty—even the cards on the walls were gone.
Josie shoved the box into the backseat and closed the door. She walked around to the rear of the SUV and slammed the hatch shut, turning her attention back to me. “I gave away all the furniture or threw it out. The real estate agent said it will rent better unfurnished. But I’m leaving Daisy’s house in the back. Would you at least keep an eye on her for me?”
I pushed my hands into my pockets. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Before the sun comes up tomorrow morning.”
I swallowed. “Okay.”
She stayed quiet until my eyes lifted and met hers. “Goodbye, Fox.”
Fuck. It hurt more than any bone I’d broken in my twenty years of playing hockey. It felt like all the air had been squeezed from my lungs. Eventually I managed to mutter two syllables.