Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I heard that he had a moment of foolishness and allowed his mother—a woman who has been in his head for his entire life—to sneak past the walls he’d built. One moment to make a mistake and he listened to the woman who should want to protect him, not use him.”
Hope grunted and didn’t say anything until they were in the air. Then she looked at the man next to her. “It’s not that simple.”
He scoffed. “Of course it is. And no,” he said, continuing to speak Portuguese, “I’m not discounting your feelings and how much pain he inflicted on you. I am saying this is simple. You two love one another.”
“You don’t treat people like that if you love them, João.”
“Listen to me, Hope Roman. Despite my putting him up on a pedestal because of how he played ball—and let me tell you, he was a fucking god when he played—he is human. And that means he is going to fuck up and make mistakes.”
“And when those mistakes mean ripping me down to my soul and exposing my fears, my own insecurities? I’m supposed to let them go and give him a pass because he was a god on the court?”
“Fuck no. But you held yourself from him as well, Hope. Don’t bother trying to tell me otherwise. If he’d known what you did for a living, nothing his mother had said would have shaken his faith in you.”
“He told me to get the fuck out and if he never saw me again it would be too soon. And he stomped on my cell phone.”
João shrugged, reclining his seat. “He’s a man.”
“Of all the misogynistic shit to spout.”
“He’s a man. He’s human and he made mistakes. Yes, a lot of them, Hope, but look me in the eye, right now, and tell me you don’t still love him. Aren’t still head over heels for him, and you want nothing more than to demand they turn this plane around so you can run back to him.”
“I hate you,” she grumbled.
“Think of how much easier your life would be if you had agreed to be with me in Brazil.” He winked as he teased her.
“Right, the life of the antivirals.”
He waved his hand in her direction. “Hush now, I’m planning on how I’m going to ask my new best friend to show his appreciation for helping him get his woman back.”
“You still think he’s going to be your friend?”
“You’re my friend. He wants you. Logically, he will make sure I’m on his side of this relationship. Especially since I’m such a threat to his happiness.”
“Oh God, stop before your big head brings down this plane. I need a nap.”
She closed her eyes as he laughed. She didn’t join him. All she could envision was Mitchell standing there, telling her to come home to him.
Lord help her, she missed him something fierce.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Do you know where she is?” Mitchell demanded as he stood in front of Dawson at her shop. Behind him, he knew Tully watched their interaction and was getting ready to intervene.
Dawson Shay didn’t need any protection, that was for sure. She slowly turned off the flame of the torch she’d been using and lifted the welding helmet from her face. Sweat moved down her dark skin and he could see the irritation brewing in her whiskey-hued eyes.
“I do.”
She flicked her gaze over his shoulder and although she didn’t say anything to Tully, Mitchell could hear it. Get your boy.
Mitchell was going crazy. More than four days had passed and he’d heard nothing from Hope. “And?”
Dawson sucked on her teeth, picked up a sparker, and activated it. Seconds later the flame on the blowtorch roared to life and he took an involuntary step back. His friend’s fiancée cocked an eyebrow at him and lowered her helmet. He watched the solid mask cover her features. And like that, she dismissed him, returning to work.
He avoided getting sparks showered on his clothing only because Tully yanked him away from Dawson and her work.
“Christ, man. This is a shop. You can’t linger when she’s welding.”
“I want answers, Tully.”
“I’m sure you do but you’re going to have to wait until my Legs is done looking fucking hot as she rocks her torch.”
Turning sideways to avoid the bright light of what she was working on, Mitchell looked at his friend. Tully didn’t hide how in love with Dawson he was and it fit him.
“What?” Tully managed to pull his gaze from Dawson. His expression sobered at whatever he saw on Mitchell’s face. “Come with me.”
Following his friend out the front of the shop, he crossed his arms as he leaned against the side of the barn. The scent of melting metal combined with the rich, pure scent of the mountains.
His friend wiped his hand over his forehead, removing the sweat, and stood in front of him, facing the interior of the barn. Mitchell knew it was to keep an eye on Dawson, even though the woman was more than capable.