Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Rocking just once on his lap and liquefying his brain.
Was it possible to marry her again? Or did he have to wait a certain number of years to renew their vows?
This phenomenal woman had snuck over barriers he didn’t even know existed inside him. She’d started helping him bring Sam’s dream to life . . . and slowly it was becoming their dream, too. Yeah, it was becoming theirs, and that was more than okay. It was his life now and he desperately wanted to go on living it forever.
August dropped down from the doorframe after a few more pull-ups, his brow knitting over the arrival of a second car. Who was that?
When he walked out of the barn, the person he needed to see was Natalie—and he did. Briefly. She glanced at him with a strange look on her face as she slipped into the house with a bunch of roses in her arms, shutting the door behind her. What the hell was that?
He started after her, stopping short when his CO climbed out of the second car.
“Cates.”
As always, his spine snapped straight at the sound of his commanding officer’s voice, but his mind didn’t follow. Not this time. Something was up with his wife. Why was his neck tingling like danger was imminent?
Commander Zelnick approached with his hands clasped behind his back. “I don’t mean to keep surprising you like this, Cates, but I never know when I’m going to get enough free time to drive up from Coronado.” He nodded at the barn. “I trust things are on their way to improving.”
“Yes, sir,” he said automatically—and it was the truth—but a hundred-pound weight had dropped in his stomach and something was prodding the edges of his consciousness. “Sir, would you mind waiting here a moment while I figure out my wife?”
He didn’t mean it to sound ridiculous, but his mouth wasn’t connecting with his brain. She’d stopped to buy flowers? For their house? Why did that make him feel like there was a potato sack race happening inside his chest? And why hadn’t she smiled at him?
Was something wrong?
Yes. Something is wrong.
He’d been avoiding thinking about it during their week of bliss, but with the appearance of his commanding officer, the monumental thing he’d been keeping from Natalie jumped up and dug its teeth into his jugular. Every time he thought he had gathered enough courage to tell her about the investment, he recalled the way her father and ex-fiancé had manipulated her with the contents of their bank accounts. Or her trust fund. Not to mention, the investor she’d met with in New York. How she resented their refusal to be straightforward about money.
A little longer, he kept thinking. I’ll tell her about the investment once some time has passed since my last fuckup. Really, it had been just over a week since he’d sent her running to the other side of the country. They were so happy. He’d just wanted more things about their marriage in the pro column before he added deceptive about money to the con side.
“Of course, go greet your wife,” the CO answered, laughing. “Didn’t recognize her at the flower stand. She looks different. Good different. Happier.”
“Thank you,” August managed, pulse rollicking. “Did you . . . you didn’t mention the investment, did you? I haven’t told her yet.”
The man only looked confused. “Why not?”
“It’s complicated.” August sort of just doubled over, catching himself with hands on his knees, releasing an unsteady exhale. “You did tell her. She knows.”
“It came up, yes.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Cates?”
“Sorry. Oh fuck, sir.”
This was bad. This was very bad.
His spleen was seconds from erupting, and he didn’t even know where his spleen was located. Or its function.
Fix it. Fix it now.
“I need some time with Natalie, sir,” he said, winded. “If you hear glass breaking or doors slamming, don’t worry, that’s normal around here.”
“Should I come back later?”
August took a deep breath on his journey toward the house. “That’s probably a good idea, sir.”
With a brisk nod, the commanding officer strode to his car, as if a battle awaited.
And it did. The big one.
Why the hell had August kept this from her for so long? Didn’t he know better by now?
August paused with his hand on the doorknob, then opened the door carefully, waiting a beat, just in case a plate or frying pan came flying at his head. “Princess?”
No answer.
Shit. I’m screwed.
Silent treatment from Natalie was so much worse than arguing, because he didn’t get to hear her voice and it meant her feelings were injured. Utter torture.
“Natalie,” he said, easing himself inside the house, “I’m sorry. I was going to . . .”
August stopped short just inside the door, because a sight greeted him that he wasn’t expecting. Natalie was standing in the middle of the kitchen, wringing her hands. She appeared to be . . . nervous? Why?