Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Keltan said, “I’m perfectly happy with a hotel.”
I smiled at him. “You’re not putting me out. There’s heaps of room, and Gwen’s just going to insist you stay with her otherwise. Trust me, you don’t want to share a house with a screaming baby and a broody biker,” I teased as Gwen scowled at me.
Keltan looked at Gwen who had raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. “I’ll get my shit,” he muttered, defeated. He said a quick goodbye to us both and Gwen descended on me as soon as he closed the front door.
“You sure you don’t mind him staying, Ames?” she asked, looking concerned.
I waved my hand. “Of course not. He’s your family and I can’t subject him to hearing you and Cade having your crazy animal sex,” I said.
Gwen’s cheeks reddened. How could she pop out a kid and still blush over sex?
“It’s fine, he seems like a good guy. As long as you promise he’s not going to murder me in my sleep we’re good,” I told her jokingly.
“Who’s going to murder you in your sleep?” Brock barked.
I jumped. “Sheesh, we need to get you a bell or something. You’re light on your feet for a huge fucking biker,” I said.
Brock scowled.
“She’s talking about Keltan—he’s staying here while he’s in town,” Gwen volunteered. “He was going to stay in a hotel. Could you imagine that?”
Brock stared at her a moment then glared at me. “Yeah, I can imagine that,” he muttered.
Uh-oh.
Gwen read the atmosphere. “You know what, we’re going to stay here too. Belle has a portable crib I can put in my old room and I want to spend as much time with Keltan as possible,” she said quickly.
I frowned. “That’s too much hassle.”
Gwen frowned back. “It’s not. Plus I won’t be doing any of the work. Cade will.” She winked at me. Her gaze went down to the letter in her hand and her expression turned serious.
“Can you watch Belle for a few minutes for me, Ames? I’ve gotta go take this outside,” she said quietly.
Brock stepped forward before I could get up. “I got her Gwen,” he told her, cradling the little baby in his huge arms.
Gwen gave him a small smile before coming up to me and squeezing my hand. I gave her a weak smile before she left the room.
I glanced up at Brock who had his eyes on Belle. I felt a slight pang at seeing him, in his cut, covered in tattoos, looking menacing as shit, directing a tender look at my niece. I ignored the fact that pang came from my empty womb. So not the time to get clucky, or wish for little Brock biker babies. Plus, you had to have sex to get pregnant.
“You volunteer to have a fucking stranger stay in the house with you alone, Sparky?” Brock asked me quietly.
I clutched my letter in my hands. “He’s not a stranger, he’s Gwen’s childhood friend for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I asked Ted Bundy to have a sleepover,” I argued.
“Jesus, Amy.” He shook his head.
“What, Brock? Have you got something to say?” I prompted, daring him to bring up the subject we had danced around the past week. He stared at me, his eyes blazing.
Before he could open his mouth Cade shot through the door. I hadn’t even heard his bike. Fuck, were these guys going to stealth school or some shit?
He registered Belle in Brock’s arms and gave him a chin lift. “You good with her for a bit longer brother?” he asked roughly.
Brock nodded.
“Where is she?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Out back,” Brock told him.
Cade nodded, gave one look to his daughter then went in search for his wife.
“You call him?” I asked after we had bathed in silence for a moment.
Brock nodded. “Figured he’d have my balls if he found out his old lady was going through this shit and I didn’t tell him right away.”
I laughed sharply. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
His gaze softened. “You okay, Sparky?” he asked.
I met his eyes, registered the tender look of concern in them, the love. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t have his sympathy, his understanding for my grief.
I stood quickly.
“I’ve got to go,” I declared, snatching my keys off the coffee table.
Brock’s face turned hard. “What the fuck do you mean? You’re not going anywhere.” He stepped forward, but thanks to the baby in his arms he couldn’t exactly tackle me.
I sidestepped away from him, darting toward the door. “I’ve just got to go, okay? I need some air. Tell Gwen to call if she needs me,” I said before turning my back and almost sprinting out the door.
I started hyperventilating five minutes after I left my house. Tears blurred my vision after ten. I somehow made it up to the overlook of the town. The place where a sharp drop held the ocean on one side and the town of Amber on the other. I let out a breath of relief as I turned the car off, as I realized I was away from it. Above it all.
The letter was sitting in the passenger seat staring at me. Yes, I know inanimate objects cannot stare, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel its gaze. That didn’t mean I could hardly breathe thanks to the fact it took up all of the air in the car.
How long I stared at it I don’t know. Minutes, hours, seconds. I touched it with shaky hands and slowly pulled out the paper from its dirty and crumpled envelope.
Deep breath, Amy, you can do this.
Ames,
I’m gonna start with the whole “if you’re reading this it means I’m dead” intro. It’s cliché as shit, but how else do you start one of these things? Fuck. I really hope you’re not reading this. I pray that one day when I get back from deployment and I’m in bed with you we can burn this motherfucker together. But the best laid plans and all that.