Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Dan laughs softly and says, “What can I do to help?”
“Set the table, please. Do you want wine, water, or apple juice?”
“You know the answer, Matt.”
“Yup. The box of apple juice is at the back of the fridge.” I lift the steak from the skillet and let it rest on a wooden cutting board. “I thought for sure you were gonna say wine.”
She finishes with the plates and takes out the juice box. “Why?”
“Being a city girl and all. Besides, no one in their right mind pairs steak with juice.”
“I do.”
Slicing the steak into thick, juicy strips, I lift a brow at her. “You’ve always liked weird food combinations, though.”
Dan slumps on the chair and jabs a finger at me. “How dare you? Name one.”
“Steak and juice, potato chips and ketchup, French fries and gravy.”
“I still like all of those.” Her face splits into a grin. “Some things never change, I guess.”
“Maybe.”
An ache of longing so strong hits me as I stare at Dan sitting across from me on the dining table, her face illuminated by the golden light above her. I’m torn between wanting to just stare at her like a hungry man gazing at a buffet or kissing her and finding out if she still tastes as sweet as before.
She slants me a glance from beneath her thick, long lashes, her mouth slightly open.
My traitorous body is back at it, and my muscles tense as I realize with dazzling clarity that I have never truly moved on from her. I only managed to keep myself too busy with the cabin to have extra time to think about her.
The air between us is charged, and she has no idea how feverish it turns my skin when she holds my gaze and chews on her bottom lip. Her eyes flare the way they do when she’s turned on.
My hands tighten on the knife and fork, and I have to physically lock in my arms to keep myself from rounding the table and claiming her mouth. We eat in silence, and I try to ignore that spark of happiness and pride when I see her devour everything on her plate.
Goldie chooses that moment to break the tension because she nudges Dan’s thigh. Dan turns to her with a smile. “Hey, girl. You want some?”
Thankful for how Goldie saved me from a series of possibly bad decisions, I decide to give her extra treats before bed. “She just ate.”
“She looks hungry.”
“She’s manipulative.”
“Don’t say that in front of her, Matt. She’s not.” Dan slides off her seat and crouches, running her fingers through Goldie’s fur. Goldie responds by rolling onto her back, her tail thumping against the floor.
I fucking hate how this makes me feel. I’ve never had an issue with anger, but watching Dan bond with Goldie causes a throbbing in my chest, and I don’t like it. I’m thirty-one years old and not the eighteen-year-old boy who kissed the ground she walked on and spent my days worshiping her.
No, she can’t subject me to this again. To these conflicting emotions that keep me up at night. I won’t let her. I can’t let her.
A mix of anger, frustration, and unfulfilled longing pushes me over the edge, and I snap. “Go to sleep, Dan. I’ll take care of this.” My voice has lost the friendly tone, and she notices.
“No, Matt. I’ll wash the—”
“Go to bed. You’ve done enough for today.”
Her mouth falls open at how rough I sound, and she turns away wordlessly, folding one arm against her stomach. The door closes behind her with a soft click, and I keep staring at it.
Fuck. She doesn’t deserve that. Why am I acting like this? It’s like I don’t know myself when she’s around, like I don’t know how to behave or react to every little thing she does.
Haven’t I already made peace with the fact that I also had something to do with what happened? That I also had a hand in our break up and her leaving?
It took me a while before I understood why Dan did what she did. The anger consumed me for so long, and when I finally calmed down, I realized with a pang that I never really did ask if she was ready to get married. I hoped. I assumed. She loved me, of that I was sure, but it was a dick move that I essentially forced her into marrying me by proposing in front of everyone we knew.
Goddammit. The guilt chips away at my sanity, and I’ve just treated her horribly. I am not like this. I am not this man.
Goldie taps my foot with a paw. When I gaze at her, she looks at me disapprovingly.
Raking a hand over my face, I groan. “I know, Goldie. I know I messed up.”
4
DANIKA
He hates me, and to be fair, I understand. The fact that he saved me from staying outdoors and possibly losing my way in the darkness, clothed me, fed me, and gave me a temporary roof over my head should be enough.