Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“By the time I realized I’d mistaken a carefree spirit for someone who just didn’t care at all about anyone, including herself, it was too late.” He lifted his head and looked at me. “I’d married her. I thought I loved her, but I knew she didn’t love me, and I didn’t even care. She was the only one willing to pretend.”
“Rich.” I couldn’t help myself. I went to him. He was slow to wrap his arms around me, but when they did, I wished silently to myself that he would never let go.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he whispered.
I forced myself to pull away, but only enough to see his face. “Why did you?”
I became so lost in the emotion swimming in his silver eyes that I’d forgotten I’d asked the question until he answered.
“I knew you’d let me go.”
“If you had been honest—”
He shook his head before I could finish. “Not what I meant. If I’d told you about my past, I knew you’d sacrifice your heart to let me do what I thought was right. You’d let me walk away, and I couldn’t handle that. Years of hoping for a family, and I was suddenly praying that her baby wasn’t mine. I was praying I wouldn’t have to give you up. I was living in a cloud of shame and confusion, and I didn’t know which way was up, much less right.” I felt his hand curl around my nape and the other slide through my hair. He’d never held me so tenderly. “But it was never my intention to deceive you, Braxton. Hurt you was the last thing I wanted to do.”
“But you did,” I told him as a tear fell. How could I make him see? My soul reached out for him, but my heart was a different matter. It was afraid of falling again. “After Emily, you should understand how much. Trust is fragile, Jericho. It’s rattled often and easily broken. You shattered mine. You can put the pieces back together, but it’ll never be as strong. I’ll never not see the cracks.”
I couldn’t describe the range of emotions that flashed in Jericho’s eyes in the seconds that followed. God, there were so many. It seemed liked hundreds and then…nothing—only utter defeat. Leaning down, he kissed me. Was that hope I felt? He smashed his lips against mine once, briefly, and then he pulled away.
Why did it feel like the last time?
“It’s okay,” he whispered to me as he dropped his hands. “It’s okay.”
“Jericho.” I reached for him, but he was already turning away. Desperation forced my voice to rise, and my pride and ego to flee. “Jericho!”
I didn’t care about the eyes I’d drawn as he walked away. I didn’t care if they looked too long and recognized him or me. I just needed him to turn back around. I needed him to fight for me.
He kept walking away.
If only Griff and Maeko were here to distract me from my heart with wine and angry music. They’d flown back home after our last show in Belgium.
I bet they knew this would happen. I’d known it too.
I stood on the balcony of the penthouse suite, staring at the full view of the Eiffel Tower lighting up the night but unable to appreciate its beauty. I’d banged on Jericho’s room door inside the suite the three of them shared for ten minutes, but he wouldn’t answer.
Houston and Loren had both sworn that he never came back. Feeling the need to lash out, I’d called them liars before storming out.
That had been five, maybe six hours ago.
I never heard the room door to my suite open, never questioned how he’d gotten the key. When strong arms wrapped around me and the scent of cloves from his soap and vanilla from my warped brain had washed over me, I knew who had intruded on my brooding.
“Is he back?” I inquired softly while staring straight ahead.
Houston’s tone was equally gentle and more patient than I’d been hours earlier when he answered, “No.”
I closed my eyes and squeezed them tight. “Please tell me where he is.”
“I don’t know, baby. I swear.”
“I’m not your baby,” I snapped.
As soon as I said the words, I burst out crying.
This wasn’t me. This was not me. What the hell had I allowed myself to turn into?
Houston turned me around in his arms and pulled my head back, using my hair as his handle. The wig I’d worn to meet Jericho this morning had been left discarded on my bed.
“Yes, you are.” Houston kissed my lips as if it would prove his claim. I shoved him away, and he yanked me back. When he pressed his mouth against mine again, I kissed him back, and we didn’t stop. “Have dinner with me,” he proposed after we ran out of air.