Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I push a hand roughly through my hair. For me, it’s more than an itch. It’s an ache embedded deep in my soul.
But can I blame Porter? We were always a secret, which was mostly my fault. I wasn’t out to anyone, and I’m still not. Though I’m not sure it would make a difference even if I were. Porter will never lay our family’s history to rest. He feels we robbed him of something. Which makes the fact that he’s here now, working for the ranch again, that much more shocking.
Maybe there’s an ulterior motive, even if Porter doesn’t realize it yet. Maybe he plans to steal something in return. Like my heart.
Too late.
I cut the light and crawl back into bed with the scent of Porter and sex all around me. Wish I could smell like this all day, all week. Damn, the way he ate my ass like a starving man and then fucked me good… That’s not something I’ll ever be able to shake.
My eyes finally shut, and I’m lulled to sleep by the aroma of him in my sheets.
The following morning at breakfast, Mom is looking at me weirdly, and I wonder if she heard us last night. I’m not sure how, since my bedroom is at the opposite end of the house relative to theirs, but maybe she had insomnia and was wandering around.
After another minute of feeling scrutinized, I can’t take it anymore. “What? Did I miss a spot shaving?”
Dad smirks as he buries his nose further between the pages of the local newspaper. He still gets monthly magazine deliveries too, though they’re all available online.
“I’m not allowed to admire my handsome son?”
“You see me every day.” I set down my spoon. “Something’s up. What is it?”
“Okay, fine.” She averts her gaze. “Guess who’s in town?”
“The tooth fairy?” I scoff. “Please, I can’t take the suspense.”
“Aimee Goring,” she announces, and I’m struck by the sound of her married name. “And her new baby.”
I blink. When I’d heard that she and her new husband were trying for kids, I was thrilled for her, that she’d found someone to share her dreams with. And then last winter, a rumor was going around that she might be pregnant. I’d steered clear, wanting to avoid any speculation about our failed marriage. Looks like Mom heard the news too, but for whatever reason, tiptoed around me.
“It’s a boy, so he’s Blake Jr. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Uh-huh.” I swallow roughly, wondering why it’s making me feel emotional. “I’m pleased for her and Blake. I hope they’re blissfully happy.”
“Do you?” Mom asks, eyeing me again.
“I do. We weren’t right for each other, and I feel bad about that. But I still consider her a friend.” Though we haven’t really stayed in touch the last couple of years. And now I saw why—she’s been busy. “That’s all our marriage was. Friendship because I…” I trail off and dig into my toast, regretting I said as much as I did.
“You…what?” Mom urges. “What were you gonna say?”
“I know you’re disappointed I’m not married with kids, but I’ve never felt that way about anyone except one person, and it wasn’t Aimee.”
“Then why did you marry her?” Dad asks pointedly.
“Because I thought…I thought I could learn to love her in that way. And I wanted you to be…I don’t know exactly. Maybe proud of me?”
“For being married and having kids?” Dad’s eyebrows knit together. “We’re proud of you regardless.”
“Are you, though?” Somehow I’m feeling raw and vulnerable this morning, especially after last night. “Would you be proud no matter what?”
“Well, now you’re scaring me,” Mom says, and my parents share a look. “What does that mean?”
“Not sure. I’m sorry. I’m just having a moment, I guess. Just ignore me.”
My dad’s hand lands on my shoulder. “I know the pressure of running this ranch can get to you. But you’re doing a wonderful job, and I trust you to make your own decisions about your future.”
My heart balloons in my chest because fuck, it’s good to hear. “Thank you.”
We grow silent as we finish our breakfast. But I can still feel Mom’s gaze on me, wondering what that was all about. And I decide right then that I’ll tell them both about being bisexual. Just not today.
“Is Aimee staying with her folks?” I ask. “Maybe we can catch up.”
“As a matter of fact…” Mom stands to clear dishes. “I invited her for lunch.”
Ah, there it is. “When?”
She averts her gaze. “Today.”
I tamp down my frustration that she didn’t check with me first, instead focusing on the opportunity to see an old friend. “Then I better get to my chores so I can make time for her visit.”
I go through the rest of the morning in a fog, and it’s almost like I’m living in the past again. Aimee’s imminent arrival, right on the heels of Porter’s confession that he left town shortly after seeing us together that day, has thrown me for a loop.