Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
My stomach takes a swan dive. What the hell is he doing here?
The bartender hands him a glass of something bubbly and light colored. He doesn’t take a sip. Instead, he turns his head.
Our gazes lock. Everything inside me lifts, only to be sucked back inside my chest. My heart is like a black hole, devouring everything. Feeling everything.
Hurt.
Hope.
Want.
I want this man so badly I literally am going to be sick. An awful, metallic taste fills my mouth, but before I can even look for a receptacle to puke in, Tuck is holding out the glass.
“Ginger ale. Here, have some.”
I stare at the glass. Then him.
Was Tuck expecting me? And did he know that when I saw him I’d enter into a queasy tailspin? Is that why he has ginger ale ready?
If he’s being thoughtful—sweet—I don’t understand why. He let me go. He broke my heart. This show of chivalry is wasted.
I still take the ginger ale, though. Drinking it, I feel marginally less nauseous as I search Tuck’s face for any hint of why he’s here.
“Better?” he asks.
Putting a hand on my stomach, I nod. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting—” I shake my head. “Tuck, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m here to apologize.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m here to tell you that I miss you and I can’t live without you because I’m so fucking in love with you, Tiny.”
My eyes bulge. Did he just say what I think he said?
Did he just call me Tiny?
Tuck Monroe is in love with me.
“Wow,” Mom says beside me. “You really don’t waste any time, do you, Tuck?”
Tuck’s eyes stay on mine when he says, “I feel like I’ve wasted a lot of time, actually. I hope to change that.”
I look at Mom. “Did you—”
“Help Tuck plan this?” She gives me a little smile. “He reached out to your father, then he called me. He made his case, and Dad and I agreed that you should hear him out. It’s up to you, though, to decide what happens next.”
My vision blurs with tears as I turn back to Tuck. “You reached out to my parents?”
“Of course I reached out to the most important people in your life.” He lifts one massive shoulder. “We’re family. Or I hope we’ll be.”
His words cause a pileup in my brain. They don’t compute. One minute, this man is letting me walk out his door because he’s having doubts about our relationship. Now he’s saying he wants us all to be family? He’s telling me he’s in love with me? Before the hospital, I had a suspicion I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. But to hear him say it out loud after everything that’s happened . . .
I put my hands on my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Here, I’ll give y’all some space.” Mom gives my arm a squeeze before she scurries into the restaurant. “Good luck!”
Even the bartender makes herself scarce, pushing through a door beside the bar.
Tuck and I are alone in the front of the restaurant. Just me, him, and the baby bump between us.
I stare at the space where my Mom was just standing. I’m confused about that too. Is she actually on Tuck’s side now?
I look at him. How the fuck did he manage that?
“I can explain,” he says, reading my thoughts.
Anger fires through my veins. I drop my hands. “Now you’re ready to explain? Days after you let me walk out of your life, alone and in the dark?”
His throat works as he swallows. “I am so sorry, Maren.”
“You’ve put me through hell. My life is a living nightmare, Tuck, and I mean that literally. I’m not sure I’ve slept more than a handful of hours since I left Bald Head.”
“Ask me to leave”—he nods at the door behind me—“and I’ll do it. Right now. I don’t deserve your time, but I’m asking for it anyway. Give me five minutes. Two. I’ll make my case and if I don’t convince you, I’ll leave.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “You don’t deserve my time. No one’s ever hurt me the way you have.”
“No one’s going to make it up to you the way I will. The things I’ve been sending you—”
“Screw your gifts. You know that’s not what I want.”
“That’s what I’m saying. They were a poor excuse for my behavior. I was an idiot to send them, but I didn’t know what else to do.” His voice gets husky. “But I did some work on myself—talked to some people whose opinion I respect—and they helped me find the courage to do what I really needed to do. I need to explain myself to you in person and beg for your forgiveness.”
My throat tightens. I can’t tell if I’m going to cry or scream.
All I know is I won’t be able to get back up if I let this man bring me to my knees again.