Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
The coffee machine spurts and sputters, telling me the water is warmed up. I hit the fridge to pull out the creamer Josie prefers. Another errand I ran yesterday was the grocery store. I had a few things but nothing she prefers, and since she doesn’t have a kitchen, I wanted her to feel semi at home here. The delivery pizza shot dinner to shit; I’m pretty sure I more than made up for it, though. I put a pod in the single-serve machine, place a cup under the drip spout, pull down the lever, and hit the button. Then I’m grabbing my phone, find Wes’s number, and make the call. I’d usually put my cell on speaker, giving me freedom to move around and do other shit while waiting for him to answer or to talk. Today, I don’t. The ringing on the other end of the line keeps going and going. I grab my cup of coffee and head toward the back door, waiting for Wesley’s voicemail to pick up. “It’s Wes. You know what to do,” is said into my ear. Probably should have waited till noon to call. Still, I leave a message. “Hey, you gonna head over soon and pick up this check for the wedding? Call me back, bud. Love you.” When Coop, Gia, and I spoke about the situation, it was Gia who said to play offense, pretend like you know nothing, get a bead on him and go from there. I hit the end button, pull up our text, and fire one off just in case he doesn’t check his voicemails, which we all already know he doesn’t. He’ll clear them out and respond via text.
Me: Hey, got your check. Swing by the house sometime this week. I’d love to see you.
There. The ball is in his court. Now all I can do is sit and wait. I walk out further to the deck, hip leaning against the railing as I look over the mountain range, dropping my phone off to the side, and take my first sip of coffee. If this shit is karma for having a kid as young as I did, it’s surely hitting me in the worst way possible. Damn, Wes doesn’t know how good he’s had it. Most kids would be tossed around between parents or grandparents at my age, not waking up in the middle of the night to feed their newborn and change diapers. Every milestone, be it crawling or walking, I was there. Graduating from preschool, first day of schools, missing tooth, the first time he got his heart broken by what he thought was his one and true love in middle school. Yep, I was there. Then there was puberty, where I taught him right from wrong, or so I thought. Never would have pegged Wes to be the man he is today. Nah, my boy isn’t a man, not with the way he’s treating people. He’s a damn child.
“You okay?” Josie’s lips press against my back. The arms wrapping around me are cool to the touch. So much for her sleeping in.
“I am now. Why are you awake?” I lift my arm. She moves so she’s between the rail and my body, head tipped back, looking at me. I see what she’s doing, trying to read my mood. Her body relaxes when she realizes I am in fact doing better now that she is here.
“The bed isn’t the same without you in it. I felt the loss of your body heat when you left.” My hands go to either side of her body on the railing, after I put my mug off to the side.
“You feeling okay? I went hard on your ass last night.” She cocks her head to the side, a blush hitting the apples of her cheeks. The woman lets go with wild abandonment in bed, yet I mention taking her ass, and she blushes.
“I’m good. A little bit of soreness, but nothing that hurts. I rather like it, lets me know where you were.” Christ, she makes me want to turn her around, bend her luscious body over, and fuck her again and again.
“Fuck, yeah, I like that, babe. I like that a whole lot.” She moans in the back of her throat. My mouth touches hers, getting my first taste of Josie for the day, knowing it won’t be my last.
26
TRACE
One Week Later
My hand smooths over the plank of wood I’m currently hand-sanding. Usually, I’d use my power sander, but this piece isn’t my usual project. Josie mentioned she’d like one of those big boards to put in the middle of her peninsula. She didn’t ask for this; the woman could never do a thing like that. Fucking independent streak. I took it upon myself. It doesn’t help that her countertops still aren’t installed yet. They delivered them, only for them to be cracked right down the middle. Josie was visibly upset, worried she’d have to cover the cost for a new one. I went round and round with the countertop company, telling them they’d better find a comparable piece of granite and have it delivered within a week since they were gearing up to try and say they could fix it. No fucking way. I let Josie know she wouldn’t be paying for a new slab, the company would be taking care of it, and it’d be another week or so before her kitchen would be put back together.