Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
He leaned forward suddenly, until his eyes were inches away from mine, and he said. “I’m divorced. The ‘wife’ that you keep referring to isn’t my wife anymore. The only reason we married at all was because she was my good buddy’s girl and he left her pregnant with no life insurance at all. I married her so she could have my benefits. She just married somebody else. Somebody who loves her.”
“That baby,” I choked. “She’s not yours?”
He shook his head. “No. Not mine.”
I closed my eyes, relief flooding through me.
Then anger followed soon after.
Rearing back, I launched my fist at Booth’s face.
He never saw it coming.
It hit him so hard in the nose that I heard it pop.
Or that might’ve been my hand.
Yep, pretty sure it was my hand.
“Owww,” I cried, doubling over
Booth scooped me up and led me into his parents’ kitchen, sitting me up on the counter as he’d done hundreds of times before.
He used to set me up here so he could get me drinks. Cook for me. Find us something to snack on. Talk.
This used to be our place.
We had our first make out session on these counters…and our first sexual experience. Not that his parents would ever know that.
This time, however, we weren’t together.
We weren’t anything.
And my head was currently dropped down to my chest as I tried to breathe through the nausea as the pain really started to make itself known.
“You stiffen your wrist next time you do that,” Booth said as he placed a Ziploc bag of ice on my hand.
“Mmmm,” I was all I could manage.
“Move your wrist,” he said.
I did.
“Now your fingers,” he ordered.
I straightened out my fingers and pain shot down my arm, starting at the base of my left pinky.
“Your pinky finger looks like it’s broken, but there’s nothing the hospital can do for a broken finger. You need one of those splint things,” he explained.
I knew that.
I’d never had a broken anything before, so this was new.
And it sucked.
Balls.
Then, with the utmost care, Booth pulled my hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss on my swollen pinky.
And I’d never ever admit it, but the badass in him looked not so…badass.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered gruffly.
“You’re sorry that I hit you and got hurt?” I asked, voice quivering.
He nodded. “I’ve been an ass. I’ve done things to you…on purpose. And I don’t feel good about doing that to you.”
I took in a deep, settling breath, then finally lifted my eyes to his.
He was being sincere.
I could see the weight of his sincerity in his eyes. The way he gave me everything just by looking at me.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked softly.
He pursed his lips, dropping my hand onto my lap and holding the ice down as he thought.
Then, he let me have it all.
Gave me his whole entire heart and placed it in the palm of my hand.
I could either throw it back at him, or keep it and hold it safe. Treat it better than I had previously.
I got my second chance.
Well…I had to work at it, but I got the offer of a second chance, anyway.
Chapter 9
I was going to work out…but then I realized this nap ain’t going to take itself.
-Night Shirt
Masen
“Each and every time I nearly died, I used to chant your name like one would a prayer. It’d give me that more drive to survive. To go home to you. To make you realize that I never blamed you. Never stopped loving you,” he said.
I waited, knowing he wasn’t finished.
When Booth spoke, you listened.
No matter what…even if all you wanted to do was bust him over the head with a shoe.
“I’ve loved you since I saw you in those short shorts with your hair flying in the wind. From the moment you ran to your car and stood on the bumper of your Jeep to put the top up, I knew you’d be mine,” he exhaled. “I know we’ve not made this easy, but if you’re willing to try, so am I. And I know we can make this work. You’re mine, and I’m yours. But I can’t deal with you seeing Bowe anymore. So you need to make a choice. Him or me.”
I wanted to laugh.
“Booth,” I laughed, reaching out to curl my hand around his neck.
He moved forward until his face was only inches away from mine.
Then I gave him the truth, as well as handed him my heart. The precious, broken and bleeding piece of flesh that’d never been the same since he’d left.
“Bowe’s not mine. We’re not seeing each other. He’s just a friend,” I said.
“A friend,” he said, testing the words on his tongue.
I nodded.
“Then you’re all mine?” He asked.
This is where I hesitated.
I didn’t want him to think that this was all going to be swept under the rug.