Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
A tiny giggle rippled from her lips, her smile pure adoration. “I know you better than you think I do, Milo Hendricks.”
He could only smile back, propped on an elbow as he gazed down at her where she lay on their bed. “Is that so?” he teased.
“It’s very so and so very plain to see how much you love me.”
His heart soared, and he touched her face. “More than you’ll ever know. Forever and always.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered as I balled the fabric tighter and pressed it deeper against my face.
Like it could stand as a bridge back to her.
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
Sorrow whispered and howled from the darkness.
From that void that would forever live on.
From the place where I’d destroyed the one beautiful thing that had ever been offered to me.
Forcing the torment down, I stuffed the yoga pants back into the very back of the drawer and rifled through until I found an old shirt and some shorts of my mom’s that would have to do until we could get Tessa something better.
Then I slammed the drawer shut and moved back out into the main living space, slowing my footsteps as I eased toward the hall on the opposite end. My heart that was already feeling flayed got chopped to shit when I saw Tessa wasn’t at the door to the room where I’d placed her last night, but rather was standing in the doorway to the one at the far end of the hall.
Her hand was still on the knob, the girl frozen in confusion as she stared inside.
Or maybe she’d just gotten snagged on every mistake I’d ever made.
Every misstep.
Every failure.
Every sin.
A slow, dense intensity pulsed along the narrow hall, and I struggled to breathe around it. Struggled to process this connection that throbbed between the two of us.
A live wire.
Echoing and curling and rebounding.
My skin crawled, and the vacancy in my spirit ached.
There was something about Tessa that made it seem like she got people without them having to say a thing. Like she knew things. Saw things. Felt things.
And shit, I was feeling all of them right then, too.
For an eternity, we stood in it together. Silent as we floated on this gutting confusion that rippled with understanding.
Finally, she looked at me from over her shoulder. Caution filled her expression. This girl who knocked me senseless every time I caught sight of her gorgeous face.
The guilt of that truth nearly knocked me to my knees.
A smile pulled to her mouth, soft and awed and perplexed. “I didn’t know you’re a dad, Milo. That’s amazing.”
There was a question behind it, and regret coiled with the adoration, my throat feeling like it might lock up as I scrubbed a palm over my face.
“Yeah,” I finally managed. “A girl and a boy. Remington and Scout.”
“How often are they here? I mean, I can leave.” Her words became hurried, like she suddenly felt uncomfortable or out of place when I was the monster who didn’t want her anywhere else. “Get my own place. It’s no problem. I don’t want to get in the way. I didn’t know you had children here, and seriously, the last thing they need is my crazy ass running around—”
“No.” The single word cut her off.
She slowed, caught in my storm, blue eyes adrift. Lapping and swirling and drawing me to a beautiful place.
To the place where the sun touched the sky.
Too bright for those who’d been condemned to the darkness. I forced myself to speak around the shards of glass lodged at the base of my throat. “They don’t come here.”
A frown pulled to her brow, that blaze of red hair a burning halo piled on top of her head.
Her gaze was soft. Penetrating. Digging deep into the recesses where my demons lay.
Swore to God, she took up every molecule in the space.
“Do they live with their mother?” Caution stole all the lightness from her voice, and I was pretty sure the woman could sense the pain that was leaching from me in a torrent.
My head barely shook through the misery. “No.”
She blinked, troubled, the question a rough scrape. “Where?”
“With their grandparents.” It grated out, the admission nothing but razors of affliction.
“Oh.” It was a slight curl of her mouth, and her teeth raked her bottom lip like she was trying to hold back every question that wanted to come rushing out.
While I stood there feeling like I was coming unhinged.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” she finally whispered, pulling the door shut. “I was looking for a linen closet so I could grab a towel and take a shower, and I opened this and…”
She trailed off, the smattering of freckles on her pale skin glowing in the sunlight.
“It’s fine,” I told her, when it was the farthest from the truth. None of it was fine. But that wasn’t on her. It was on me.