Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Cheyenne burst out laughing. “We’ll see, sweetie. Right now, I couldn’t even afford that doghouse in the yard. Come on, let’s get some paper towels so we don’t make a mess.”
A moment later, they appeared in the kitchen, and I have no idea why my heart chose that moment to fall through the floor but it did. I took one look at Cheyenne in that giant sweater with the floppy arms, and the fuzzy socks and the hat hair and the mascara that had run earlier because she’d laughed so hard she’d cried and was now smudged beneath her eyes—and I knew I loved her so much I never wanted to be without her. This was it for me. She was the one.
My chest grew tight. My breathing was shallow.
I wanted her to live with us. I wanted to put up our own Christmas tree. I wanted to play Santa with her after our kids went to bed and then take her to our own bedroom, undress her, and wrap myself up in her warm, soft body and stay there all night, until our kids came flying into the room in the morning again to wake us up, squealing that Santa had come. I wanted to wash the wedding china with her after Christmas dinner. I wanted the wedding.
I wanted it all. More than that—I could see it all.
The bed that was ours, in a home that we shared, in a life that we’d started together.
The promise of a new forever was unfolding right in front of me.
But promises could be broken.
I started to sweat. My hands tingled, and I had to set my beer bottle on the counter because I was afraid I would drop it.
“We need paper towels,” Mariah announced, going over to the roll to rip some off.
“Hey. You okay?” Cheyenne asked, eyeing me with concern.
No, I wasn’t okay. Not only was I in love with her, I was in love with the future I’d imagined for us—and it could all be destroyed in an instant.
“I’m fine,” I said, clearing my throat. “Sure you don’t want a beer? Let me just get you one.” I turned toward the fridge.
“Okay.” She came over and rubbed my back as I popped the cap off for her, hoping she wouldn’t see my hands tremble. “Sure you’re alright?”
I nodded.
But I wasn’t sure at all.
I was a zombie the rest of the night.
Distracted. Anxious. Two seconds away from a panic attack at all times. The effort to keep it from happening exhausted me.
I couldn’t relax during the movie. I couldn’t keep my hands still. I couldn’t stop my leg from twitching.
Cheyenne knew something was off, but didn’t ask again. And since Mariah was between us, she couldn’t touch me either. But maybe it was better that way. Maybe I shouldn’t depend on her touch to soothe me.
After the movie, I sent Mariah up to bed and told her I’d be back after I walked Cheyenne home.
“But I want Cheyenne to say goodnight too,” she whined.
“No.”
“But it’s not even that late.”
“Not tonight,” I said sharply.
“But Daddy, she always—”
“Enough!” I yelled. “You can’t always get what you want. Now go up and get ready for bed!”
Cheyenne spoke up gently. “Cole, I really don’t mind—”
“I mind.” I cut her off.
Hurt, Mariah hugged Cheyenne and then plodded up the stairs, sniffling. I felt horrible—I rarely raised my voice to her. But it was for her own good. I didn’t want her to get too used to Cheyenne being there to say goodnight to her all the time.
“Ready to go?” I asked her stiffly.
“Yes. Let me just get my coat.”
“I’ll get it.” I grabbed her coat from the closet and held it out so she could slip her arms in. When she was all zipped up, she pulled her hat and gloves from her pocket and tugged them on.
“I’m ready.” She was looking at me kind of like she didn’t know me, and it made me feel like shit.
I opened the front door for her.
“Don’t you want a coat?” she asked.
“Nah. I’m coming right back.” But fuck, it was freezing outside. I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets as we walked.
Cheyenne said nothing until we were on her doorstep. “Well, thanks for everything today. I had a great time.”
“Me too.” I faced her. “And I’m sorry I lost my temper with Mariah back there. I’m just in a weird mood.”
“I can tell. It sort of came out of nowhere.”
“Sorry,” I said again, frustrated and angry with myself. Why should I panic about wanting to be with the woman I loved?
She bit her lip. “I don’t want to keep asking if you’re okay, so I won’t. I’ll just . . .” Looping her arms around my neck, she hugged me tight, pressing her body to mine.
I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling her scent, and felt the tension in me ease up. “You always know what I need.”