Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
He takes me by surprise when he leans in and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. Stepping back, his thumbs fly across the screen of my phone before he hands it back to me. “I added my number and texted myself that picture.” He looks down at the floor for three heartbeats exactly. I know because I counted before he looks up under long lashes at me. “She’s mine, Delaney. I can feel it. I want—” He stops and swallows hard. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” Giving my hip a gentle squeeze, he drops his hand and steps back. He walks backward for several steps before turning and walking out the door.
I was dreading facing him, explaining the story of my accident yet again. It’s the same story I’ve had to tell more times than I can count over the years. However, this time, this time the story had a different ending. One that’s muddled with what I see in his eyes and the conviction in his voice, versus what I’ve always been told. The two are fighting against one another like oil and water.
I’m glad we’re getting together tonight. I have so many unanswered questions, as I’m sure he does as well. I debate on calling my mother and calling her out on all of this, but I fight it. I’m going to wait and see how tonight goes. Hear his side of things and try to piece them together. Seems like that’s all I’ve been doing these last five years—piecing small bits of information—yet nothing seems complete. At least it didn’t. Awareness rushes through me. This trip might be more than just overseeing renovations. Maybe I’ll find my past and combine it with my future.
What are the odds?
Chapter 4
Kent
The rest of the day, I walk around in a haze. The guys pretty much leave me alone and let me work out all this shit bouncing around in my head. I look for her around every corner and have to fight with myself to not go in search of her. I’ve pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the picture of her daughter what feels like a thousand times.
That last night, the night I stood her up when she wanted to talk to me, I thought she wanted more, but maybe it was more than I ever could have imagined. Maybe she was going to tell me she was pregnant. That I was going to be a father. Her daughter looks like me, but with Delaney’s blue eyes. I’ve been over it and over it in my mind, and the timeline fits. She’s mine. I feel it deep in my bones. This little girl is my daughter. A daughter I’ve been away from the last almost five years, a daughter I never knew about, who doesn’t know me.
I fucking hate it.
Tossing my tools into one of the crates, I wince at the noise. I’ve been tossing things around all day, being rougher than I should, but I’m mad. I’m beyond mad. I’m pissed, livid, infuriated, and I don’t know what to think about all of this. If what she told me is true, she doesn’t remember me. And I believe her. The connection we had, even though I refused to name it at the time, was intense, and no way could she hide that I know her intimately. Every inch of her body has been caressed by my hands, by my tongue. The time we spent together is not something that you can fake not remembering.
Another swarm of anger courses through me. She was hurt, in a hospital bed, and I wasn’t with her. I would have been there. Sure, I was an idiot, but if she needed me, if I had known, I would have been by her side every step of the way.
And the baby… I missed it all. I missed Delaney growing round with my child, watching her body change, being there the moment Kendrix took her first breath. Those are moments I’ll never get back.
“What did that hammer do to you?” Tyler asks.
I glare at him because I’m not in the mood for their shit. I need to get out of this house, get home, shower, and come back to pick her up. Hell, I’m tempted to have her ride to the shop with me to get my truck and take her straight to my place. The only thing stopping me is that she deserves better. She might not remember that night, the night I stood her up, but I do. I’m no longer that guy, and I’ll show her what she means to me, even if she can’t remember. Maybe one day she will and she’ll know I’ve changed. I’m no longer afraid of what I feel for her. Hell, I don’t even really know what that is.