Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I’m… so sorry,” Clarke says, aghast at my revelation.
I lean in, kissing her softly. “You don’t need to apologize. And his drinking really wasn’t the worst of it. Turns out, he ended up having an affair and falling in love with another woman. He left my mother and me when I was fourteen. He got sober—a requirement from his new wife—and started an entire new life without us.”
“You said you have a sister,” she remembers.
“She’s twelve years old now.”
“Wow,” she murmurs. “And you’re not close?”
I gaze into the starry night, seeing the bay sparkling in the moonlight below. “You know how I can quote the classics? Well, that was my pathetic attempt to have a relationship with my dad after he left us. I started reading all his favorites, which he’d left behind. I mean, the man loved those books like nothing in the world, yet he left them all behind when he started a new life. I’d read them, memorize passages, then I’d call him to try to discuss them with him. And he was sober, you know? So I thought he’d enjoy a mutual interest with me, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was his new wife and baby daughter. I spent years trying to have a relationship with him over those fucking books, and it was like trying to pull teeth.”
“And you eventually gave up,” she surmises, sadness evident not only in her tone, but also in the way her arms start to gather in tighter around me.
“He never let me be a part of his new family, so I never got the chance to be close to my sister. When I was eighteen… I just packed the books away in a box and that was when I let my dad go. We rarely spoke after that.”
“I know he’s dead, but he sounds like an ass,” she says hotly.
“Yeah,” I agree, her offense on my behalf making me chuckle. “He was an ass. Not a good father at all. At least not to me.”
“But you were with him when he died?” she guesses, based on the statements I’d made to Rafe.
“He was pretty sick when he reached out,” I say, remembering how shocking it was to not only hear from him, but also to hear he was dying. “I think he was trying to make amends before he died, so I went to see him. He was under hospice care, and I stayed there until he died. He apologized, and I accepted it.”
“That was very noble of you,” she murmurs.
I shrug, because it really wasn’t that transformative for me. His apology was too late, but I’d graciously accepted it to give the man peace. It was the advice I’d imparted to Rafe… help his dad with the transition as best he could.
While I’m glad I was able to freely tell Clarke this, showing her a little bit more of the man I’ve asked her to trust, I’m also tired of the conversation. There’s never anything good in remembering my father didn’t care about me in any way until the very end when he only wanted to ease his conscience.
Nor is there any use in telling her that my mom wasn’t much better, sinking more into alcoholism after my dad left and that we have virtually no real relationship now.
What I do know is I have a beautiful, sweet, and caring woman in my arms who is very naked. I also haven’t seen her yawn once since we got back to the room, so I’m not feeling all that gallant right now thinking she’s better served by getting a good night’s sleep.
My theory is we can sleep in tomorrow.
Dipping down slightly, I move my hands from her waist to her armpits, lifting her out of the water. She gives a startled yelp, pushing down hard on my shoulders for leverage. Within moments, I have her ass sitting on the edge of the pool. Water sluices down her naked body. I put a large hand to the center of her chest, forcing her to lie down on the wooden decking of our balcony.
She resists for a moment, but ultimately gives in.
And as she slowly leans back, using her elbows to help lower herself down, I note her legs willingly parting so I can step in between them.
The most perfect way to end the evening.
CHAPTER 19
Clarke
I’m sleeping so deeply the first thing I register is irritation that I’m being brought out of it. A sound plays in my head… repetitively at the same pace.
There it is again.
Tap, tap, tap.
I growl in my throat, burrowing deeper against the warm skin and solid muscle of Aaron’s arms surrounding me.
“Make it go away,” I mutter grumpily, because there is no way in hell I’m ready to wake up. Someone who shall not be named but who is insanely handsome and very good with his hands, tongue, and other body parts kept me up until the wee hours of the morning.