Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
The goofy smile, the tilt of her nose—even her laughter sounds like his.
She’s gone back to my brother’s house, having picked up a craft project she wants to do at his place (bead necklaces), slamming the door behind her as she always does.
Small but mighty.
I’m startled twenty minutes later when there’s a knock on the front door…followed by the ringing of the doorbell, which is strange because Skipper usually just barges in, considering she knows the codes to half the homes on the block or where the keys are.
I swear, that stealthy little shit will be a cat burglar one day.
The grin I have when I pull open the door is wiped straight off my face, another round of “shock and awe” as I’m greeted by the likes of Jack Jennings. Only this time, he isn’t just as shocked to see me standing here as I am of him.
He knew where to find me.
Davis…
Thanks for the heads-up, bro.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door wide so he can step inside.
Jack declines, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets with the shake of his head. “I don’t think it’s best I come in just yet.”
I nod, one half relieved, the other half confused.
“What are you doing here?” It’s déjà vu all over again.
“I had a bye week. No game.”
That’s not what I meant, and he knows it. “What’s the other reason?”
“I think you know why I’m here.” His eyes seem to scan the area behind me, over my head, searching for something.
Or someone.
Skipper.
Panic fills my belly, and I fill the doorway. Though my daughter—our daughter—isn’t home, I feel the need to protect my space.
Regardless, he doesn’t seem interested in an invitation to come inside.
“Can we go somewhere and talk? Like a coffee shop or something?”
I hesitate. “Um. Sure. Let me just…”
I need to get my coat and text my brother.
Let me just calm the fuck down. Chill. Stop my racing heart. Check my pulse because I swear I’m having a heart attack.
Jack tilts his head toward the car in my driveway, a black sedan that’s surely a rental. “I’ll wait in the car. You can follow me if you want.”
I want.
Being in a car with him would feel as if I were being kidnapped. Stifling. Like I was trapped with no way out…
“I’ll follow you.”
A small mom-and-pop coffee shop is on the corner not far from here, not even a mile away. I’m assuming that’s where we’re headed, and to be honest, it’s kind of perfect. Quiet, private, and slow without much foot traffic—not with the giant coffee retailers down the block a little farther sucking up all the customers.
I text my brother to let him know I would be leaving. My hands shake as I hit SEND.
Davis: Don’t chicken out this time. You owe him the honest truth no matter how much you don’t want to tell him.
I know.
Me: I won’t. I promise.
Davis: Skip and I are getting lunch with Juliet and taking her to the movies. Don’t worry about hurrying back.
Me: Did she see him when he came to the door looking for me?
Davis: No, I put her to work unloading the dishwasher and she was busy with her beading.
I smile sadly.
Skipper and her messy beading…
I don’t bother checking my reflection in the mirror on my way out. Jack isn’t here to date me, romance me, or judge me by how I look. He’s here because he knows, and he wants me to say it to his face.
The man has more balls than I do, that’s for sure. It seems he has bigger balls than most. He always knew what he wanted in life and never gave up. Now, answers from me are the next item on his agenda.
The man flew across the country to see me, which is more than I can say for myself.
Opening the garage door, I give him a small wave as I climb inside my car. I watch him back out through the rearview mirror, then back my own car out of the driveway and follow him down the street to the cute and quaint little coffee shop I will probably never want to set foot inside again. The memories I’ll create within the next few minutes will be life changing.
Life changing not just for me but also for my daughter and for Jack.
My knuckles are white as I grip the steering wheel, pull into the little parking lot, find a spot, and put my car in park.
I need a few deep breaths and a few seconds to myself before I’m able to step out of the vehicle. I’m wearing black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, along with neon pink sneakers. My hair is thrown up into a messy topknot—literally the messiest topknot you’ve ever seen in your life—but at least I’m comfortable.
Jack, on the other hand, looks like a million bucks: dark denim jeans, a black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath that adds an “expensive but I don’t give a fuck” vibe, and sunglasses. He looks one part Mission Impossible, one part Dad I’d Like to Fuck.