 by Kaylee Ryan.jpg)
Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
My whole world has revolved around caring for my baby girl. I never wanted to let anyone into my life—into our lifeuntil Kennedy came to town and threw a wrench into my single-dad routine.
She’s the first woman to make me feel something… anything, in a long time. If only she would let me in.
Kennedy is kind, beautiful, and everything I never knew that I wanted. She looks at me as if I'm her entire world, and her bond with my daughter is something to see. But there’s a problem: she's leaving in a few weeks, and I need to find a way to ask her to stay.
Kennedy
My trip to Willow River came at the perfect time to escape. Taking care of my grandmother should be my whole focus. What I shouldn’t be doing is falling for a drop-dead-gorgeous single dad. But my meddling grandmother has other ideas.
Declan is impossible to resist. Everything with him is easy and feels right. We feel right. But the timing is all wrong— no matter how I wish I could change things.
He’s a forever kind of guy, but this isn’t my home, and he doesn’t know what he’s asking when two words change everything… “stay forever.”
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
Twelve Hours Ago
Kennedy
Why is it that when one bad thing happens in your life, it seems as if a shit show parade of unpleasant events follows? Mine started with my failed marriage. Lyle and I met in college. We were friends first, and he eventually swept me off my feet. We dated for two years and married right after graduation. Somewhere over the past four years, we grew apart. A lot of that had to do with wanting a family. As in, I wanted one, and he didn’t. I was told when I was sixteen that I might not ever be able to conceive, but there were other ways for me to be a mother. It’s something I’ve always wanted. My husband agreed that when the time came, we could discuss it. We married, but over the next four years, the time never came that he was willing. There was never a good time to talk about adoption, or fostering, or any of the other options available to us. He just didn’t want that life.
About six months ago, I sat him down one night and told him it was time to talk about it. He refused and said he needed some space. He packed a bag and left. He’s stopped by a few times, and we’d talk on the phone a few times a week, but he wasn’t budging, and neither was I.
He hasn’t slept here since.
Honestly, something changed between us. If I felt as though he loved me, truly loved me, I could handle giving up my dream of being a mother. The truth of the matter is that he was gone more than was here. He had late client dinners, golf outings, and a million other reasons he wasn’t at home with me. His wife. He works in finance and hangs out with the guys from his work, who can only be described as a group of douchebags. I’m not dinging the entire finance workforce, but these guys are assholes to the highest power. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt unnerved by their beady eyes roaming over my body, even with Lyle standing right next to me.
I don’t want that life.
So six weeks after he moved out, we decided it was time to call it quits. I’m twenty-five, soon-to-be-divorced, and the second half of the shit show parade just called me. My grandma fell and broke her leg. She’s out of commission for a while and needs me to come help her run her business. She owns Willow Manor. It’s a small venue used for weddings, anniversary parties, and a host of other different things in her small town of Willow River, Georgia.
After talking to the doctors, and her neighbor Carol, I’ve been assured that she will be taken care of until I can get there. Luckily for me, I can work from anywhere. As a book editor for a host of indie authors, my job travels with me, which is why I’m frantically packing up my life to make the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Willow River tonight.
I take stock of my two open suitcases, and I think I have everything I’ll need. I’m going through my mental list when there’s a knock on the door. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I see it’s just after nine, and I’m not expecting anyone. Grabbing my cell phone just in case—you can never be too careful, especially living alone—I make my way to the door. On my way, I pull up the camera on my phone and see Lyle standing there. He has a key, but I’m glad he respects my boundaries and the reality of our current situation not to just barge in on me.