Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
He’d shared this ‘letter’ that I’d written to him a few months after Trixie’s death, then told me to leave. I’d taken one look at the handwriting and had known instantly that my mother had been the one behind it.
My ‘letter’ had also explained my brother’s and sister’s initial hesitancy toward me.
After explaining this to my father, he didn’t believe me. So…I’d given up.
It wasn’t worth my time, or my happiness, to tried to convince a stubborn old man that I wasn’t the asshole that he thought I was. Especially when he wouldn’t give me the time of day.
Though, every once in a while, I still tried to bridge that gap.
It never worked.
So, for now, I tried to be happy that my sister’s children were allowed to contact me again.
It would have to be enough.
“I can’t wait to tell you about the home run I hit!”
I grinned, stood in the middle of my wedding reception, cake in hand, and felt pure fucking happiness course through me. “I can’t wait to listen.”
Then I thanked my lucky stars as DJ promised that he’d call again tomorrow because his dad was tired of his ‘insistent’ whining.
Whatever. I’d take it.
I’d take anything Darren was willing to give.
***
Two hours later, it took both Evander and I to roll the huge bean bag into our living room.
We’d made the mistake of opening the enormous thing at the club. Then we tried to stuff it back into its bag—only getting part of it in there since there was no way in hell that the whole thing was going back in the bag no matter how hard we tried—so we could put it onto the flatbed part of Travis’ tow truck for transport back to our place.
Travis had helped us get it to the front porch before he’d been called away on a recovery, leaving us to shove it through the front door of our house on our own.
Well…I’d helped push. Evander had gotten it in the most of the way before he had forced me to wait outside until he got it through the door.
“Now,” he said as he walked over to me, bending at the waist and then lifting me up into his arms.
I squealed and threw my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life, even though I knew he wouldn’t drop me.
“But we forgot to feed the goats!” I cried out.
I’d decided to hold off on getting more chickens, so the only farm animals I had at the moment were my goats and my dog.
My dog that still was a bit unsure about Evander and didn’t try to hide it.
One day, I would get more chickens. One day, I would forget that Balthazar had ordered his minions over to my place to ‘give a warning’ that I hadn’t heeded. That warning being that he decapitated every single chicken that I owned.
A warning that I hadn’t realized was a warning. Ramirez, Balthazar’s minion, had informed me that I’d gone to the police, which had expedited Balthazar’s timetable—meaning that he’d taken the risk at visiting us himself, bringing Walter as backup. What he hadn’t expected was such a fast response time by the police, or for Evander to have a freakin’ bat.
“Don’t worry about them,” Evander growled against my neck. “Worry about me.”
“You don’t have anything that I need to worry about at this point…” I countered cheekily.
His mouth turned up into a grin. “No?”
I didn’t like that grin. It was his ‘I’m about to do something you won’t like’ grin.
Then he started toward my Lovesac.
“Evander, no,” I growled. “We’re not doing it on my Lovesac.”
My precious baby that I’d seen on Facebook and had cost an arm and a leg. A beautiful piece of furniture that still didn’t have a cover on it.
He ignored me.
Then started running to take a flying jump, with me in his arms curled around him like a monkey. He came down hard on the Lovesac, but I didn’t so much as jolt.
The air left my lungs as my wedding present took the brunt of our fall.
“Goddammit, Evander!” I said, laughter tinging my voice. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
We were both sunk down in the beast of a bean bag. We were cocooned on all four sides, and it was glorious.
In a few months, however, when I was further along in my pregnancy, it would definitely be a bitch to get out of it.
“We’re supposed to make love.”
I laughed, thinking that he was joking.
We couldn’t make love on my Lovesac! How cliché!
Except he was perfectly serious and went about showing me how very serious he was moments later.
By the time he was finished showing me, I was totally on board with Lovesac lovin’.
My face was buried in the canvas cloth, and my arms were sprawled out above my head.