Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Tripp’s instincts told him this wasn’t a coincidence. He didn’t recognize the dark haired man in the driver’s seat wearing tinted sunglasses hiding his features. But this was becoming a frequent occurrence whenever he drove to Skye’s and Tripp was both wary and concerned because who else could it be but Skye’s ex?
Still, he had no evidence it was Jack, and he couldn’t get a good enough look at the man in the car to identify him, even if he found a photo of her ex on social media to compare. There had been no other contact since that drawing but that didn’t mean the douchebag wasn’t skulking around, waiting for an opportunity to approach Skye when she was alone. And that was not something Tripp wanted to consider.
When he reached Skye’s quiet neighborhood on a residential street, the asshole behind him shot around Tripp’s car, then cut him off, stopping abruptly and forcing Tripp to white-knuckle his steering wheel as he slammed on his brakes. Otherwise he’d have rear-ended the sedan and crushed his front end.
“Fucking asshole!” Tripp yelled, unimpressed by the way the guy revved his engine, trying to exert some big dick energy when he probably had nothing more than a micro-penis. What the hell was this jerk’s problem?
Done with his antics, Tripp grabbed his phone and snapped a photo the other car’s license plate, seconds before the sedan peeled away, burning rubber and running through a nearby stop sign like a jackass. He obviously didn’t give a shit if he hurt someone else in his quest to intimidate Tripp, which wasn’t happening.
Jesus fucking Christ. He exhaled slow and deep, his entire body vibrating with rage, because if the man in the other car was Skye’s ex, the thought of her being harassed and terrorized in the same way made Tripp’s blood run cold.
He had to prove this asshole was Jack and at least now Tripp had a license plate number. According to his brother, Beck, his friend, Zach Dare, not only owned The Back Door Bar, but he had mad hacking skills and connections inside the police department. No doubt, Zach could get him the information he needed to find out who this guy was, and Tripp sent off a quick text to Beck asking for the other man’s phone number to contact him.
By the time Tripp made it up to Skye’s apartment, the worst of his adrenaline rush had worn off, but he couldn’t completely extinguish the concern twisting through him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Obviously, she’d taken one look at his face, and sensed something was off. She pressed a hand to her stomach as she opened the door wider to let him in. “Is everything okay?”
He intended to tell her what had just happened—no way was he keeping something so important from her—but he also knew how anxious she was to find out if she was pregnant. The last thing he wanted to do was put a major damper on their exciting moment by bringing up her ex, and the possibility of him being in the city.
“Everything’s fine,” he assured her, summoning a smile.
He’d already been frustrated that they lived in separate places but now he dreaded leaving because he wanted to protect her since his gut told him Jack was in town. Decision made. Tripp wasn’t leaving Skye alone until he had more details on the driver of that sedan, and he was certain that announcement would upset her and cause friction between him and the newly independent Skye. Not that he cared if she put up a fuss, because he wasn’t taking any chances with her welfare.
“So, are you ready to find out if you’re pregnant?” he asked to distract her, while noticing that her complexion looked softer, and smoother recently. Not necessarily a glow, but beautiful, nonetheless.
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Weirdly nervous, but hopeful.”
“Me, too.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Don’t be discouraged if it doesn’t happen this first time,” he said, not wanting to defuse that optimistic look in her eyes, but also needing to be realistic about the possibilities.
She nodded, and for now he forced himself to be present in the moment, because if she was pregnant, this should be a memorable occasion for them both, not marked by any worries or mention of her ex. That would come soon enough.
“The test is in the bathroom,” she said, exhaling a deep, fortifying breath. “So, I’ll go pee on the stick and see what happens.”
He accompanied her into the bedroom and sat down on her bed while she went to the bathroom. After a few minutes, she returned, holding the test strip behind her back.
“I didn’t want to look and see the results without you.” Her eyes twinkled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.