Sunday Morning (Sunday Morning #1) Read Online Jewel E. Ann

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Sunday Morning Series by Jewel E. Ann
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MADONNA, “CRAZY FOR YOU”

When I reached the Corys’ lane, I slowed down to see if Matt’s car was there. It wasn’t, so I continued driving along the gravel road until there was a farm lane, and I parked my car there.

Shimmying through the fence, I trekked through the pasture to the horse barn. When I peeked my head inside, there was no one there; as I stepped backward to close the door, I bumped into someone and jumped around with my hand on my heart.

Isaac wiped his dirty, sweaty brow with his arm. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied while my shoulders relaxed. Just being in his presence lifted the weight of the world from them. “Are you going to ask me why I’m here when Joanna’s funeral is this afternoon?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he reached past me to open the barn door, “I’m just really fucking glad to see you. Do you want to tell me why you’re here?” He lifted his T-shirt and wiped his whole face.

It was scorching, and so were his abs which distracted me for a few seconds.

“Brenda Swensen was the driver who hit Heather and Joanna. And they think she’d been drinking.”

“Yeah,” he said, giving me a shrug. “She died too.”

There was no way that Isaac didn’t know about the affair, not after his reaction to the couple in front of us at Opryland. We’d been dancing around the topic.

Right?

“And?”

Isaac squinted. “And what? She was drunk. She killed two people. And she paid the price.”

“She didn’t pay the price. She’ll never pay the price. Brenda’s dead. She’s not here to suffer the consequences of what she did to my friends and your family.”

“My family?”

He doesn’t know?

I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn’t know what to say.

“You mean Matt because they were his friends too?” Isaac asked.

Had I not had another funeral to attend or just stormed out of my house, I would have told him. Out of everyone, I wanted to be honest with Isaac because I believed what we had would last—maybe for a lifetime. His trust mattered the most.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “They were Matt’s friends too.”

The lines of confusion on Isaac’s face vanished. “I’ve wanted to call.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, well, don’t call now. I think I just ran away from home.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I blew up at my dad and ran out. I have a dress for the funeral in my car that I parked at the tractor turnaround. Then I walked through the pasture.” I lifted my foot. “And I got poop on my shoe.”

“You’re homeless?” He lifted a brow.

“Yes. Can I sleep in the barn?”

“You can sleep in my bed.”

I gave him a dead stare before casting my gaze on the ground between us. “Can we just go back to Nashville?”

“I’ll drive.”

I reached for him because I loved him for saying that.

“I’m filthy,” he said, taking a step backward and holding up his hands.

“I don’t care.” Again, I reached for him.

He took another step away. “You have to put on a dress in a few hours.”

Everything was falling apart, including me. The only hands that could put me back together were his.

“I-saac …” His name shattered as it fell from my quivering lips.

With his brow furrowed, he grabbed my face and kissed me. I curled my fingers into his shirt, tugging it, needing him to be as close to me as possible. If I could feel his heart beating against my chest, I thought mine would remember to keep beating too.

Everything ached bone-deep. The blank space Heather and Joanna left inside of me needed to be filled before I crumbled into something irreparably broken. It was a hundred degrees outside under a cloudless sky, but I hadn’t seen light in days. My world was dark and suffocating.

I shoved Isaac’s shirt up his sweaty chest, and he pulled it over his head and removed mine. As he walked me backward, we kissed, and he discarded my bra.

“Make it better,” I whispered while his whiskery jaw brushed my neck. “Make everything better.”

He closed the door as we stepped into the tack room, fighting for leverage to remove each other’s clothes. The need felt unquenchable—a runaway passion so raw it brought tears to my eyes.

I loved Isaac more than anyone. He didn’t earn it the way Matt earned my love. It wasn’t bestowed by genetics. I didn’t fall in love with Isaac. I found myself in love with him.

In him, I found myself.

“Oh god …” I tipped my head back and closed my eyes when he lifted me onto the bench and filled me. “I love you,” I whispered as we moved together with my legs wrapped around his waist.

“You’re my beautiful Sunday Morning,” he said, kissing up my throat, dragging his tongue along my sweaty skin. “You’re my every morning.” He teased my earlobe. “And I thank God for you.”


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