Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Not even Lucky Charms?”
“Especially not Lucky Charms.” She smirks, her eyes lighting up when she spots a container of chocolate almonds.
“Seriously?”
Her head whips my way. “What?”
“Almonds?” I make a show out of looking all around the space. “Out of all this, and you pick almonds?”
“They’re not just any almonds. They’re chocolate sea salt–covered almonds,” she teases back, holding them against her chest with a fake pout.
It’s so damn cute, I can’t help but reach forward and tug at her lower lip.
Her eyes flare, and she swiftly whips around, clearing her throat. “I think I’ll get the chocolate cashews, too.”
“Yeah.” I track her as she makes her way to the other side of the store. “You do that, Pretty Little. Anything you want is yours,” I mumble.
“Now that’s how you keep her happy.”
I look to my left to find a woman around my mother’s age. She has reddish-brown hair and a name badge that reads Margo. I smile, moving closer to the counter and checking out their fresh baked goods.
“So you’re going to be a daddy, huh?” The woman smiles, and my back muscles clamp tight. “That’s so exciting. And it looks like you scored some maternity leave of your own.” She jerks her chin toward my sling. “Milk it if you can, honey, ’cause before you know, it will be time to head back to work, and leaving her or that little one will be the hardest thing you ever had to do.”
My eyes find Payton across the room, watching as she tucks her long hair behind her ear, and there’s a stir in my chest, thick and heavy, and I swallow down the knot threatening to form in my throat. “Yeah,” I rasp. “You might be right.” The bell on the door chimes, and I snap out of it, facing the woman with a tight smile. “Can I pay for this and what she has now?” I lift the giant gummy bear I’ll never be able to eat and set it on the counter.
“You got it, stud.”
We’re out the door in two minutes, all possible awkward conversations between the two of them effectively prevented.
I don’t know why I didn’t correct her about the baby, but she kept talking, so I just…didn’t.
Didn’t want to.
Fuck.
“Hey, you okay?” Payton asks, already popping her treat of choice into her mouth.
I force a smile and nod but frown down at her treats when she tears into another. “You need to eat lunch before all that.”
She rolls her eyes but grins as she slides closer so she can tuck the almonds in the bag I’m carrying. “Fine, feed me then, Superstar.”
So I do.
We walk a little farther, deciding on a small Mexican restaurant with outdoor seating and a view of the ocean. It’s perfect for what I had in mind, so we wait for one of the tables on the patio’s edge to open before sitting and ordering our meals.
Payton only makes it through half of her fajita bowl before she’s sitting back with a satisfied smile, her eyes soft and trained on the waves ahead.
“I really like it here,” she says softly, her blue eyes finding mine. “I don’t think I would have been able to go back home even if…if Deaton hadn’t passed.”
My smile is small. “Maybe he would have stayed, too,” I offer, hating the bite of acid that coats my tongue at the thought and feeling guilty for it happening at all.
It’s so fucked-up, and I could never say it out loud but…
I’m happy he’s not here, but I’m not happy that he’s gone.
It’s a dickheads way of thinking, but it’s still the truth.
I wish she still had him so she wasn’t hurting or confused or heartbroken that her son would never know his father…but I also wish I could hold her how I want and touch her in ways I don’t think she’s ever been touched.
I don’t know if I would have fallen for her had he stayed, but I don’t see how I could have avoided it. Not that I would have ever done anything about it, and there are a lot of things that likely would never have happened had he still been here, lessening the pull I feel toward her. I think. Maybe.
But he’s not here, and that invisible thread that tugged me toward her from the start is thickening. It’s growing roots and digging deeper.
I can say with certainty there’s no stopping it now.
I’m already hers, and while she no doubt has an idea, she’s yet to realize how much she truly means to me.
“Yeah,” she agrees with a small smile, one that makes me wonder if she believes what she’s saying or if she’s saying it because she believes she should.
She looks out at the water again, and the lines along her forehead disappear, a serene expression blanketing her features as her palms lift to rest on the highest point of her stomach.