Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
For real.
There’d been so much guilt and tears at first that we’d barely been able to get full sentences out. Learning what Ford had gone through after what had happened in that shed so many years ago had been hard to hear. I’d known he hadn’t gotten off scot-free but knowing how long his brother had tormented him for had been a painful thing to think about. I’d experienced a whole new round of regrets and what-ifs after wondering what our lives would have been like if we’d reconnected sooner.
I knew I still would have met Lincoln because I truly believed he’d been meant to be mine from the beginning. When he’d admitted that he had this weird feeling sometimes that his brother was by his side, I, for once, hadn’t needed proof. I could feel something more out there. Whether it was one supreme being or the people we’d loved and lost, I felt like we were being looked out for.
Lincoln had likened our lives to pieces. Pieces of time or history or thoughts. It didn’t matter. Everything was pieces that we picked up or put down as we lived our lives. Some we chose, some we didn’t. I liked the idea of my life still being a bunch of pieces I was slowly fitting together. I knew what the end result would be… a satisfying, beautiful, fully lived life with the people I loved. It didn’t matter if it was for five minutes, five years, or five decades. I had faith that the pieces would all come together, and I’d figure out how to drop the ones that weren’t meant to be in that final picture.
I was hoping that I’d be casting one of those sharp, ugly pieces aside today. I’d always remember that I’d held it in my hand, but it didn’t have to be a permanent part of my story.
I greeted Lincoln with a deep kiss even as Nacho and Chips jumped all over us.
“Mmmm, a blanket,” Lincoln murmured against my lips. “Is this an invitation or a way to keep Walter off our backs?”
“Your back,” I reminded him. Even now it was hard not to laugh at the memory of the day Puddles had delivered her puppies. Lincoln and I had gone through so much effort to make sure Walter wouldn’t discover what we’d been up to by the stream that day, but Nacho’s interruption had kept us from cleaning up like we’d been planning. After all the commotion had died down and Puddles and her brood had been safely tucked away, Walter hadn’t been able to stop hugging and thanking me for saving his girl and his grandpuppies. Unfortunately, the old man—who was a much sharper cookie than he pretended to be—hadn’t missed the fact that Lincoln’s back and hair had been covered in dirt and leaves. In front of God and everyone, he’d asked Lincoln who he’d been rolling around in the mud with while I’d been saving the day.
“I am and always will be the hero. I have six godpuppies to prove it,” I added.
Lincoln rolled his eyes at me. “Well, I get to fuck the hero’s brains out every chance I get, so that trumps anything Walter tries to throw at us.”
“You,” I again corrected. Lincoln always had a habit of lumping us together when he went to war with Walter over something. I’d learned very quickly what role I was supposed to take in those battles.
I was Switzerland.
Neutrality had saved my ass on many occasions.
Although my ass often paid for it later when it was just me and Lincoln.
As much as I liked topping on occasion, like the first time Lincoln and I had gone all the way, I would never get enough of his cock buried inside of me, filling me. I’d never tire of the words he’d whisper into my ear whether he was fucking me hard and fast up against a tree or making slow, deep, passionate love to me in our bed. And the only jolts I ever felt when he closed his big hand around my dick or ordered me to jerk myself off while he watched were the kind that everyone in the world should be lucky enough to experience at least once in their lifetime. The kind of jolts that stole your breath in the best way possible.
“How was work?” Lincoln asked as he settled down next to me. Nacho took up his usual spot at my side with his head on my lap while Chips nudged Lincoln’s thigh. The puppy I’d breathed life into loved being held and he specifically loved being held by Lincoln. I liked to think that I was the reason he liked having someone’s hands on his little body, but the rest was all Lincoln. I didn’t blame Chips for putting his trust in Lincoln’s strong hands.