Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The last text message is from Landon. I do a double take. He must’ve input his contact info into my phone before he texted me.
Landon: This is my number.
I glance around and see my curtains have been moved. He must’ve gone through the window. I read his text over and over again. Four simple words—giving nothing away. Did he hear Richard and me talking? Did it make him run scared? I mean, he did climb out a damn window. Maybe he texted me his number before he heard what was said and now he’s regretting it. I wouldn’t blame him. He’s a single guy with zero baggage, while my baggage is enough that if I brought it all to the airport, they would charge me extra.
Last night was amazing. More than amazing. But it wasn’t my reality. I don’t get to go out on dates and spend carefree nights and mornings in bed, tangled up with the man of my dreams. And there’s no way Landon would want to deal with climbing out of windows. He’s a grown man.
I stare at his text, trying to figure out how to respond. What would I even write? Thank you for the great sex! Sorry we got interrupted by my ex-husband and children!
Closing my eyes, I remember the look of devastation in Landon’s eyes all those years ago when I told him I was pregnant and engaged. I destroyed us. Trying to pull him into my mess of a life would be selfish and inconsiderate. It would be cruel. No, while last night was perfect—a night I’ve dreamed about having with Landon for years—that’s all it can ever be. One night. We got caught up in the moment, in our past, and got lost in each other for one magical night.
I grab a quick shower, then throw on my swimsuit. On my way upstairs, I put my sheets into the washer. I pop my head into Ella’s room first to let her know Bridget, Simon, and the kids are on their way over to go swimming. When I get to Hunter’s room, the door is closed, so I knock.
“Come in,” he yells. I step into his room and he looks up from his phone. “We’re going swimming?” he asks, sitting up.
“Yeah, the Hogues are coming over.”
“Cool.” He stands and walks over to his dresser to grab his board shorts.
“We need to talk.”
He turns around and leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest.
When the hell did he grow up?
“What is there to talk about? Samantha told Dad she wants a bigger house when they move so they can have a baby, and Dad said he doesn’t want any more kids.”
Ouch, I bet she wasn’t thrilled about that, but it doesn’t explain why Hunter got mad at his father.
“Okay, but what happened that made you mad at your dad?”
“Dad got offered a job in Hartford and is going to take it. He’s moving there as soon as they find a house.”
Hartford? What the hell is going on here? That’s in Connecticut, over an hour away from his kids, and in the opposite direction from where his parents live. There’s no way Richard would move even farther, just for money. But as I think the words, I already know he would. Money and rank are what Richard thrives on. The job is probably higher up, which means the pay is more.
“And him telling you that he’s moving upset you?” I ask carefully.
“Umm… well… he didn’t tell us,” Hunter says slowly. “I was listening to them talk in their room.”
“Hunter,” I admonish. “Eavesdropping is not okay.” This explains why he wouldn’t answer his dad when he asked what was wrong. He would’ve had to admit he overheard an adult conversation.
“I don’t care if he moves,” Hunter says, but I can see it in his face he does, in fact, care. “But Ella is going to be sad.” He will be too, I think but don’t say. No matter how much he tries to act unaffected by his father’s choices, at the end of the day, he loves his father and wants his attention.
“Once he moves, we’ll never see him again, so we might as well stop going to see him now. I’d rather be here with you anyway.” He shrugs and my heart breaks for him. He’s trying so hard to be strong and not let his feelings show. He’s at a delicate age, caught between being a little boy and a young man, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to react.
“I’m going to speak to your father about what you overheard. The thing about eavesdropping is sometimes you don’t catch the whole story. Instead of getting mad and saying you wanted to leave, you should’ve spoken to him about it.”
“I guess,” Hunter says.