Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“How did you lose her?”
“She was going bowling with some friends and asked me to come with them. I wanted to, but I had to work. They ended up going without me and got hit by a drunk driver.”
“Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.”
“She should’ve never died. It was my fault.”
“How can you say that? It wasn’t your fault.”
“You’re wrong. If I’d been driving, then they wouldn’t have been hit by that fucking drunk driver. The car wouldn’t have been ripped to shreds when it went flying down that embankment.” His voice was riddled with anguish as he continued, “Lindsey wouldn’t have been thrown from the car. She wouldn’t have broken her neck, severed her spine, or suffered inoperable brain trauma. I would’ve been careful, made sure nothing happened to her or her friends, but I went to work instead. Figured I’d make it up to her, but I never got that chance.”
“Noah, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen.”
“Maybe not, but I should’ve been there to look out for her.” I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Ada over Noah. She’d mentioned that he’d suffered a great loss, but I had no idea how much he’d really been through. I thought his anguish ended there, but then he said, “I joined the military to try and escape the misery but only ended up finding more.”
While he’d only told me a little about his time in the service, I knew enough. My heart ached for him. The man had been through so much. I wouldn’t have blamed him for shutting down completely, so I was surprised when he looked over to me and said, “I’ve lost people I cared about, people I loved, and it nearly broke me. I’ve spent years trying to piece myself back together, and I’m still a fucking mess. But I am who I am. Not promising I’ll ever be able to change, but for the first time in a very fucking long time, I want to try.” His blue eyes pierced through me as he continued, “I want to try for you, Remington. I want to be the man you need me to be.”
Overcome with emotion, I reached for Noah, wound my arms around his neck and pulled him close, hugging him tightly. “I didn’t think it was possible that anything good could come from all of this, but I was wrong. I found you.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he just sat there and held me against his chest. There were so many things about this man that got to me, but the feeling I had when I was in his arms surpassed them all. After several long moments, he released me from our embrace, then looked down at me and said, “You know, you still haven’t answered my question.”
“No, I guess I haven’t.” I reached down and took his hand in mine. “I can’t really explain why, Noah, but I’ve always trusted you. From that first night when you came up to me at the strip club, I just knew, and even now, after finding that guy locked up in the office, nothing has changed.”
“Good.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he reached over and lifted me into his arms. He carried me inside the house, and we spent the next few hours making love. When we were both completely spent, I curled up in the crook of his arm and rested my head on his chest. It was at that moment I realized I was falling in love with him. Truly. Madly. Deeply. I guess there was some truth to the old saying, Love isn’t something we go out and search for. Instead, love finds us, and when it does, it can be the best thing that will ever happen to us. It certainly was true for me.
Feeling more content than I had in my entire life, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been napping when Noah’s phone started to ring. He quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed it out of his jeans pocket. After what seemed like a two-second conversation, he hung up, then looked over to me and announced, “You need to go pack your stuff.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re going back to the clubhouse.”
As I watched him start to dress, I asked, “And why are we doing that?”
“Remington, go pack your bags.”
I wanted to push him for a reason, but I could tell by his tone it wasn’t the time. I let out an exasperated sigh as I tossed back the covers and grumbled, “Fine. I’ll go pack.”
I wrapped the sheet around me, and as I started out of his room, he reached over and popped me on the behind with a smile. “That’s my girl.”