Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Beth could do this. She had to.
She tapped a quick response to Cat’s message
Gideon pensively stared at the truck parked in front of Beth’s house. It had been there for about half-an-hour already. Gideon had heard it pull up and had then shamelessly spied on Beth through his living room window, curious to see what was happening.
KVS Contractors. That’s what it said on the side of the truck, and he’d watched Beth lead the tall, balding man to her side gate that led to the yard. The only thing that needed work in her backyard was the pond. And Gideon worried that she was going to use this KVS to finish the job that Gideon had started. Or worse, that she was going to fill the pond as had been her initial instinct.
He couldn’t stand the thought of her doing that, she had loved her old pond too much and he’d wanted to give her back some of what she’d lost.
She wouldn’t talk to him. Wouldn’t acknowledge his texts, calls, and messages. She refused to answer the door when he knocked—even though he damned well knew she was at home—and he couldn’t blame her.
Every time he recalled that horrible day, the things he’d accused her of, the unforgivable way he’d used her stutter to his advantage, he felt lower than a snake. No, snakes had purpose. Even fucking maggots had purpose. Gideon was worse than that. He had lashed out, even though he’d had doubts. Those doubts should have stayed his impulse to accuse. He should have…
He swore impatiently. Annoyed with himself.
Shoulda! Coulda! Woulda!
He was a fucking turd. Beth deserved better. She’d held her ground against his formidable father, had won the man’s respect. She had defended Gideon, and he hadn’t done the same for her. He’d betrayed her in the worst way.
He didn’t fucking deserve a second chance, but God he wanted one. He wanted to put this behind them. He wanted to explore what they could be together. He’d had a taste of it, and it hadn’t been enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. But what Gideon wanted was inconsequential. He didn’t have a leg to stand on here.
He’d been wrong. Catastrophically wrong. And he yearned to find a way to make her forgive him despite that.
He straightened when he saw Beth and the man exit the yard through the side gate again. They were having an earnest discussion next to the guy’s truck, Beth’s hands were moving animatedly as she spoke.
Gideon was out of the door and in the road before he could think the better of it.
“—nearly done. I could finish the job quite easily. It’ll be much cheaper,” the man was saying.
“No. I want it filled and paved over,” Beth said adamantly, and Gideon’s breath caught in his chest as her words confirmed his worst fear.
“Don’t.” They both swiveled to face him and Beth’s usually expressive face closed up tighter than a fist. He kept his eyes on her frigid expression and spoke directly to her, even though he knew she didn’t want to hear from him or look at him or be in the same space as him ever again. “Please, Beth. Don’t do it. I’ll finish it. I’ll get it done when you’re not around. But please don’t deprive yourself of something you know you’ll love.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” she told the man, angling her body so that Gideon immediately felt like an intruder to their conversation. His jaw clenched and he swallowed painfully. “When do you think you can start?”
The man slanted an uncomfortable look at Gideon before he cleared his throat and said, “Well, my schedule is pretty full the next couple of weeks, but it’s not too big a job. I think we can squeeze you in maybe the week after next?”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. The guy gave Gideon another quizzical look before nodding and hastily climbing into his truck, seeming eager to get the hell out of there. He was off with a wave and honk before either of them had any time to react.
“Beth—” Her name was a painful whisper.
“I told you,” she said, in a voice of impenetrable ice, while she still refused to meet his eyes. “That when you realize your mistake, I wouldn’t be w-waiting, Gideon. I meant it.”
“Please let me explain.”
“No.”
“I fucked up and I’m so sorry, Beth.”
“I don’t care.”
With that she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Gideon standing in the middle of the road with his heart lying in tiny bloody pieces at his feet.
The following morning there was another manila envelope in her postbox. A4 this time, and thicker. She glared at Gideon’s house in case he was watching, which—let’s be real—he probably was. She retreated back to her house with her mail, and—God help her—that unwanted envelope. She should have left it there but she’d been unable to bring herself to do so. She was too curious and she knew he was counting on that curiosity, damn him! He knew her too well.