Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“They are?”
“I suspect. Mom saw her leaving the OB/GYN’s office the other day.”
“Women have regular checkups, Beth. It doesn’t mean she’s pregnant.”
She sighs. “I think since everyone else is having all the babies, I may be off the hook.”
Another growl rumbles over the phone. I suspect Spencer is one of those men who is turned on by the idea of his woman being pregnant and isn’t very happy hearing his wife speak about it never happening. I can see that about the man, getting turned on by the primal urge to plant his seed and watch the outcome.
“It sounds like Spencer—”
“Babe, I’ve got to go,” Beth says, a giggle erupting from her right before she hangs up the phone.
I toss my phone down on my blanket-covered legs, annoyed, and a little pissed off. She can’t even take a moment for me these days.
I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, wishing things could be different. I let myself imagine Kit and myself making the trip to Chicago with them, going out as two couples, and it makes me a little sad because I know it can never happen. Beth wouldn’t talk to me if she found out what has happened with her brother and me, much less invite us on a trip to a swanky hotel where we only meet up for dinner after having spent most of our time locked up in a room with the men in our lives.
I didn’t know I wanted something like that with Kit until spending so much time in my own head with his absence this week. Those insidious thoughts started after making love last weekend, and having gained some traction, they’ve even managed to invade my dreams. Even as exhausted as I am, I avoid going to sleep at night.
Waking up in tears because the perfection of him always turns into nightmares when everyone finds out what I’ve done.
Chapter 23
Kit
“What’s your fucking problem?”
I squeeze my eyes closed, hoping the deep breath I take calms the urge to murder the damn bird.
“I asked a question, fucker!” he squawks.
“I’m fine, Puff. Thanks for your concern.”
“Fucking women,” the bird mutters. “Only good when they’re choking on my—”
“Stop,” Wren snaps, his eyes staying on me when he chastises the bird.
“That’s a good girl. Swallow all of it.”
My eyes snap to the fucking bird because I’m pretty sure I’ve said those exact words to Jules before.
“Hit a little close to home?” Wren asks, a grin on his face.
“No,” I lie. “What did you need?”
“Just wanted to check in with you. Your mood seems to be a little more off than normal the last week.”
“Are you my therapist now?”
He shrugs. “Just consider me a concerned friend. I know you’re going through a lot right now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Is that right? What exactly do you know?”
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
Cold chills race down my spine, because in this moment, I’m pretty sure that Wren knows all of our truths.
“Talk about what?” I hedge, needing him to show his hand first.
I seriously need to talk to someone about it. Brooks is the only one who knows the truth, but he’s been so tied up with being back on assignment with Archer Bremen, that even if we were able to get over this awkwardness between the two of us, he wouldn’t have the time.
Right now I feel completely alone in what I’m dealing with, and I hate it. I’m incredibly close to my family. Any other time I have a problem, I know I could go to them and talk about it, but this secret isn’t one of them. It would be a betrayal to Jules, and as positive as I am that my family would be okay with what’s happened between the two of us, I know if the secret ever spilled from my lips, Jules would never forgive me.
I avoided her this past week because of how upset she made me at the farmers’ market, but that doesn’t mean I love her any less. It doesn’t mean that I don’t crave her with every fucking cell in my body. I’m torturing myself, all the while knowing she’s probably at home indifferent to my absence.
“What’s bothering you?” he answers, once again giving nothing away.
“I’m fine,” I say, giving up on the idea that he’s going to do more than just give vague hints about what he knows.
Maybe this is his way of finding shit out? Maybe he really doesn’t know a thing about any of us, but he’s a good enough interrogator that a few well-placed hints gets us all talking?
“Fuck her until she complies!” The bird spreads his wings, flapping them to emphasize his advice.
Wren points to Puff Daddy. “That always works if you’re having woman trouble.”
“I’m not having woman troubles.”
“It works with Whitney, although I think that woman is only argumentative because she likes what I do when she is.”