Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
She starts; then I watch her back straighten and her shoulders fill with tension. I can’t see who’s at the door, but I can tell by her reaction that it’s not who she expected it to be. “Tom.”
Tom? Is he her ex? The guy who cheated on her and got another woman pregnant while she was married to him?
“What are you doing here?”
“Mom told me you weren’t feeling great. I wanted to come make sure you were okay,” a man’s voice answers.
I get up and move toward the door—and into view. My eyes scan the guy. He looks like money. He’s almost as tall as me. Thin, wearing an expensive tailored suit, shiny shoes, and a glinting gold watch. He looks surprised when he sees me.
“Who is he?”
“You came all the way from Boston to check on me?” Courtney asks, ignoring Tom’s question. “Seriously? You never even called home to check on me if I was sick when we were still living together.”
“Who is he?” Tom repeats.
Courtney steps slightly to the side and looks at me over her shoulder.
“He’s—”
“Her boyfriend,” I state, not giving a fuck that I just told her that we would take this slow.
No way is Tom going to just show up and think that he still has a shot with her.
“Boyfriend? You’re dating?” Tom asks, looking wounded.
“This is not happening, Tom. Go home to your girlfriend—and your child.” She starts to shut the door.
“I’m not with Stephanie anymore.” He places his hand against the door. “I couldn’t be with her when I’m still in love with you.”
Her body gets tighter. Seeing her in distress, I move in closer and press myself against her back, rest my hand on her hip.
“I want another shot. I want to fix this. I want to fix us.”
“No.” She attempts to shut the door again, but he doesn’t move his hand to let her.
“Is this because of him?” he asks, jerking his chin in my direction.
“No. It’s because you are a lying, cheating dick. Now leave.”
“What’s going on here?” a petite brunette asks, pushing her way into the apartment between Tom and Courtney.
“It’s none of your concern,” Tom states. His eyes move back to Courtney. “I’m not leaving until we talk.” His eyes slice to the woman who just showed up, then to me. “Alone.”
“Sorry, buddy, but I’m not leaving you alone with my woman. Especially when it’s obvious she doesn’t want to be alone with you.”
“Your woman?” His lip curls up in disgust.
“My woman.” I shrug, then pull Courtney back a step. “Like she said—leave.”
“This is . . . This is . . .” He looks at me, then his eyes move to my hand. It’s still on Courtney’s hip. They narrow.
“Over,” I say, pulling Courtney back another step and then moving forward slightly into his space, forcing both women behind me. “If Courtney wants to talk to you, she has your number. Until she calls, you leave her be.” I shut the door in his red face, then sigh when he starts to pound against it on the other side.
“That was awesome,” says the woman who must be Abby. I turn around. “Seriously, you have my approval just for that.”
“Abby . . .” Courtney shakes her head.
“Well, that whole ‘she’s my woman’ thing was hot—and even hotter because it totally pissed off your dickhead ex-husband.”
“I can’t believe that he showed up here,” Courtney whispers, looking at the door Tom has finally stopped pounding on.
“Did you tell his mom you were sick?” Abby questions before frowning.
“I mentioned yesterday that I was feeling a little off when we talked in the morning.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Courtney’s brows pull together over her beautiful eyes.
“Yeah. Why did you tell his mom that?”
“You know why. She’s been like a mom to me. Never in a million years would I have thought that he would use that as an excuse to show up here.”
“You’re tight with his family?” I question.
“I was. I . . . It’s been strained since we got divorced, but I love his mom. We were close, really close.”
My heart hurts once more for her. I don’t know what it was like for her growing up, but I’m wondering if she longs for connection. If she’s looking for love and acceptance and everything else that comes along with having a family.
“You don’t want to lose that,” I say.
She nods, and her eyes start to tear up.
“Don’t cry.”
“I won’t,” she lies.
I wrap my hand gently around her cheek and sweep away a stray tear.
“Would you mind if I took off to track him down and kick his ass?” I half joke.
Her lips twitch into a sad smile.
“Would you get into trouble if you did that?”
“Maybe. Then again, my brother’s a cop in the city. So maybe not.”
“Well then . . .” She moves for the door like she’s going to open it. I laugh, burying my face in the crook of her neck while wrapping my arms around her.