Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
My arms tightened around him and he held me until I fell asleep.
I guess I had to thank my sister for one thing and one thing only.
She gave me Tor.
Chapter 19
‘Til death and beyond
Vittoria
It was around midday when I strolled up to Tor’s office under the guise of bringing him lunch, when really, I just wanted to be close to him. I sat perched on the edge of his desk and watched as he lifted the macchiato to his lips. That’s when I pounced. “You don’t talk about your previous wife.”
I wasn’t an amazing cook, but I had no complaints about my coffee. He placed the small cup back down onto its saucer. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
“Will you tell me about her?”
For a moment, I thought he was going to decline, but then he reached out and took my calf in his hands, massaging gently. “Her name was Amara and, the short answer is, one day she was here and the next, she wasn’t.”
Oh. “Was she ill?”
“Yes.”
His hands felt amazing. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“She was never a part of my plans. Like you and I, we both went into the marriage knowing what it was, but she had this way of making things work. She was tough. Resilient. Not afraid of a goddamn thing.” A small smile tilted at his lips. “And God forbid you came for one of our kids.” He whistled long and low. “When she came marching, even I moved out of her way.”
I found myself smiling too. “She was a good mother.”
“The best.”
Girl, why are you torturing yourself? “And you loved her.”
“Very much.”
Ouch.
It was then that I realized I was jealous. Over a ghost.
Maybe it was the fact that there was an abundance of photos of this particular ghost around the house, or maybe it was that she was gorgeous in gleaming light way, but if I were being completely honest, it was that while their wedding photo sat up on the mantle, our wedding frame remained empty and every time I passed it, a bitter taste filled my mouth.
I always knew I wouldn’t be anybody’s first choice, but right then, I couldn’t help but feel second best.
Lost in distracting thoughts, my eyes fluttered when honesty hour kicked off and he asked, “It was your sister, wasn’t it?” My eyes met his when he elaborated. “She wanted me dead, she put you up to it and you did it because it’s better to be the right hand of the devil than stuck in his path.” Ashamed, I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him when he sighed then said, “I had my suspicions, but some of the things she said that night confirmed it.”
When I scooched forward and all but fell into his lap, facing him, he didn’t stop me from undoing the buttons of his shirt and parting the white silk until it was there, right in front of my eyes. The scar was fading and had since turned a lighter shade of pink, but no matter how much it healed, I would always remember the gaping wound spilling out with blood and knowing I had caused it.
My heart ached. I leant in and softly pressed my lips to the reminder of the tragedy I’d almost caused.
It was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He took in a shuddering breath when I kissed it slowly in apology, over and over again, and when his arms snaked around my middle, pulling me close, I teetered over the edge of the cliff as this brash man comforted me for my own faults and failings.
I was tipped over the edge when he turned my head to the side, forcing me to look at him, looked me dead in the eyes and uttered, “If all I had to do was take a bullet to deserve you, empty the fucking clip in me.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
He said it so casually, as if he hadn’t just reached into my chest and plucked out my heart.
My lips began to tremble and my vision blurred. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it croaked out of me, “I think I’m in love with you.”
Tor’s eyes flashed. His lips captured mine in a harsh and demanding kiss that was utterly cleansing. Eventually, the kiss gentled and slowed, and when he bussed my lips with his, he pulled back enough to say, “About fucking time.”
I sniffled and smiled into his lips, although it shook.
I’d never been in love before. It was a strange mixture of warmth and affection, of tenderness and care, but it was also raw and painful, and somewhere below all of those sparkling feelings was cold, anxious dread. Because I couldn’t lose this. I couldn’t lose him.
Not after I just got him.
Weeks passed and I hadn’t seen or spoke to my sister. Instead, I focused on this family and found that I loved being a step-mother. That emptiness I felt the day I left my uncles house meant I had room in me for more, a space to fill in my heart and these kids filled it, effortlessly.