Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“Your scars…You’re a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth,” he deadpans. “Call off your damn pig.”
Bogo apparently has enough and lunges out and bites Braden’s wrist, snarling enough to do a Pitbull proud. He even slings his little piggy head back and forth, digging his teeth in.
“Motherfucker!” Braden snarls, trying to get Bogo loose, but my boy is nothing if not persistent and he doesn’t let go.
“It’s your fault. I told you he doesn’t like the P word,” I explain calmly.
I let Bogo continue for a few seconds—maybe a little longer—just because I think Braden deserves it. Then, I gather him up into my arms, tucking him against my stomach for safe keeping.
“That damn thing needs to be put down and made into pork chops.”
“Don’t listen to the big dumb man, Bogo. You’re perfect,” I croon, petting my baby. He’s so upset, he’s panting. His stomach is moves back and forth with his heavy breathing.
“I’ll probably have to have a damn rabies check now,” Braden continues to sputter under his breath. I don’t bother telling him that Bogo has been vaccinated. He doesn’t deserve to know.
Luckily, we pull up to my van about the same time. I open the truck door and jump out the minute that Braden comes to a halt. Braden gets out too, and I watch him as he goes to the back of his truck to retrieve the jug of gas he got from Judd and Cora. I felt bad about borrowing theirs, but Judd explained he had a natural gas generator and wouldn’t need it.
“Just put the gas under the awning,” I tell him not turning to look at him. I unlock my van and let Bogo inside, fumbling around for the small table light that I keep by the door. I’m going to need light when Braden leaves and his headlights aren’t showing the way. Luckily, it’s stopped raining—at least for now.
“Ophelia,” Braden says, and my back stiffens when I realize he’s much closer than I realized.
“I think we’re done here,” I murmur, not bothering to turn around.
“We should talk—”
“We’ve said everything there was to say to one another, Braden. I can assure you that I won’t bother you any longer. I definitely won’t be begging you for anything.”
I close my door, my heart pounding. I sink to the floor of my van and wait. Part of me is hoping Braden will apologize to me and part of me is terrified he will. Instead, there’s only silence and for some reason…
It’s extremely painful.
10
Braden
Three Days Later
The sun shines through the windshield as I head off the mountain. I curse it. I’m glad for the break in the rain but this is day two of sunshine, which means the water will have receded and Ophelia will be packing up to leave—if she hasn’t already. I’ve stayed away, but I’m the first to admit that it was a struggle.
I wanted to see her.
Hell, I wanted to kiss her again. I even found myself in my truck a couple of times, then talked myself out of it. I don’t know what it is about her, but I’m afraid I’m already hooked. I don’t know how to handle it and there’s a lot of shit in my head left over from the accident and Heather’s reaction. I was an asshole to her, and I definitely owe her an apology. I sincerely doubt she will want to hear it. Hell, if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to go about apologizing to her. It’s not like I’ve had much practice at it. Maybe that’s why I waited until I figured she’d be gone.
Who the fuck knows? My head is completely messed up.
It’s a good thing she’s gone. That’s what I keep telling myself, pushing away the regret that I’ve waited too long.
And then I round the curve and her van is there. Simultaneously feelings of disappointment and relief well up inside of me and I’m not sure which is stronger. I park, and reluctantly get out of the vehicle. For some reason, I expected her to come out and give me hell and frown when she doesn’t. That would make this easier. Instead, I find myself walking reluctantly to her van and knocking on one of the double doors on the side. She doesn’t answer. In fact, I don’t hear a sound. I knock again.
Nothing.
“Ophelia, let me in,” I command, my knuckles rapping against the metal.
Now I’m starting to get worried. A girl like Ophelia should not be out camping alone in today’s world. I worried when I first saw her, so I moved her higher on the mountain than I would normally.
But what if I wasn’t cautious enough?
“Ophelia!” I growl, vowing that if Ophelia is inside pouting I’m going to spank her ass.
She doesn’t reply but I can actually hear Bogo through the door, and maybe it’s my imagination, but I think I hear him whimper.