Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
He didn’t think he’d ever want to leave it. Especially after she brought him up dinner on a tray and sat with him while he ate.
He tried to concentrate on the food, but it was difficult with her sitting next to him, looking as hot as fuck as she did in a pair of snug yoga pants and a sweatshirt which fell off one shoulder. It sucked not being able to mess up her hair and put a flush in her face like always happened after fucking her at The Grove Inn.
“You okay with this?” he asked around a bite of chicken stuffed with ham and cheese. It was fucking awesome. In the weeks he’d known her, she hadn’t made one bad meal. The woman could satisfy him in both the kitchen and in the bedroom.
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have moved you in here.”
“Figured you didn’t want your girls to know.” He forked the last green bean into his mouth.
“I didn’t, but...”
He swallowed and stabbed another piece of chicken. “But they’re fuckin’ smart and figured it out.”
“Apparently, I raised spies.”
Shade grinned and scooped up a forkful of the best mashed potatoes he’d ever eaten. “They like that their mother’s gettin’ dick.”
“Not just any dick. Your dick.”
“Even better.”
“They actually high-fived me downstairs and had the gall to tell me I won’t have to buy so many batteries anymore.” The corners of her lips twitched.
Shade tried not to snort mashed potatoes through his nose. “Hopefully, they didn’t share that ‘til after your brother left.”
Chelle sighed and scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “I’ll work on Rick.”
“Why? He don’t have to like it. He don’t have to like me, either.”
She bugged her eyes at him just like Maddie had earlier. “He’s my brother.”
“So?”
Her mouth dropped open. “So? So, I rely on him.”
“For what? Your girls are practically grown.”
“He’s still family and he cares.”
“While that’s fuckin’ great, he shouldn’t be gettin’ involved with who you wanna fuck.”
She opened her mouth, snapped it shut and, after a few more seconds, finally said, “He worries about me and the girls.”
“Stop makin’ excuses for him, Chelle.”
“If it wasn’t for him...” She glanced away.
He put the tray aside now that his stomach was full and grabbed her hand, pulling it into his lap. “If it wasn’t for him, what?”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “He was my glue.”
Her glue. There was only one reason to need glue. “Why were you broken?”
When she didn’t answer, he studied her profile.
Yeah, it was still painful. It was why she didn’t talk about her husband. It made him think the man didn’t die that long ago. That it was still fresh.
Though, the girls didn’t act like it. It seemed strange that they would take the loss of their father a lot easier than Chelle would take the loss of the man she had those children with.
He whispered, “Tell me about him,” giving her fingers a squeeze.
Her head snapped back to him and she frowned. “Who?”
He took his time and formed his next words carefully. “The man in the picture on your mantel. The man who slid a ring on your finger. The man whose children you carried inside you. The man you loved. The man who ended up breakin’ you so your brother needed to be the glue that kept you together.”
“He didn’t mean to break me.” She closed her eyes and he actually felt her pain in his own chest. He only wished he could take all that pain from her instead of her feeling it, too.
“Never mind, Chelle, don’t gotta tell me.”
Her eyes opened and he could see the shine in them. He didn’t want to cause her to cry. Not now, not ever.
If just thinking about him hurt her this badly, talking about him would only be worse. Which is why she never mentioned him.
“I think I need to explain because then you might understand why Rick is so,” she sighed, “Rick. Why he’s so protective. Why we ended up here, in Manning Grove.”
He cupped her jaw and swept a thumb over her cheek. “Don’t owe me shit, Chelle.”
“The girls avoid talking about their father because they know how I get. It still hurts. Even after fourteen years.”
Fourteen? Damn, fourteen fucking years and his loss still affected her this much.
“It’s not fair to them. I tell them they can talk about him and what they remember, which isn’t a lot since Josie was only three and Maddie six. But while it might not be much, it’s at least something. I know they discuss him when I’m not around and they’ve gone through some old pictures I have stored in a shoebox in the attic. But they don’t want to hurt me or see me upset. And that’s not fair to them.”
“You loved their father. They see that, Chelle. They love you, too.”