Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Pax,” she says softly, putting a hand on my knee. “I had no idea. I mean, I knew we were attracted to each other since this whole thing started, but…”
“I felt like an asshole for wanting you when you were married.”
She sighs softly. “It was hard. He was here, but also…not here.”
Stopped at a red light, I look at her face, unable to read her expression. Now that we’ve started this conversation, though, I’m ready to put it all out there.
“Was he the love of your life?”
Her brow furrows and she smiles sadly. “That’s a hard question. I’m only thirty-one and I’m hoping I have a lot more life in front of me. When we got married, I thought he was, yes. And if he hadn’t been injured, I think we would have been together forever.”
My chest tightens, hope and worry swirling together. “I think I asked the wrong question. I should have asked whether you want to love someone again. It doesn’t have to be now, just…at some point. I’ll wait, Kylie.”
“I do want to,” she says softly.
My shoulders sink with relief. If she wants to love again, there’s hope I can be the man she loves. The hardest part, though, will be telling her who that man really is. I want to be focused entirely on her when I do that.
I reach for her hand and say, “Sorry to drop all that on you the second you got in the car.”
“It’s okay.” There’s a beat of silence. “I’m happy to see you.”
“Yeah?” I grin over at her. “I’m happy to see you too, gorgeous.”
“Has Cassidy cornered you lately?”
Was that a hint of jealousy in her tone? I can’t help hoping so, at least a little bit.
“Nope. She’s been busy fucking up the PR department and I’ve been on the road.”
“So she doesn’t travel with you guys?”
I shrug. “She did once. She thought she could just get a seat with us on the plane and stay in our room block, but our coach put the kibosh on that.”
Kylie makes a sound of amusement. “I’m sure she was thrilled.”
“So how was your day?”
Her expression turns wistful. “It was good overall. But my favorite patient is struggling to keep up with his chemo regimen, and it’s hard to see him like that.”
“You have a favorite patient?”
She smiles. “Lyndon. I consider him more of a friend than a patient.”
“How old is he?”
She thinks about it for a minute. “He’s eighty.”
One of her friends is an eighty-year-old cancer patient? My admiration for her grows even more. She’s not about anything superficial. Kylie isn’t just beautiful on the outside.
“Well, if it would ever cheer him up to meet a bunch of hockey players, just say the word and we’ll be there.”
“Really?” She brightens. “I know a lot of the residents would love that. We have a lot of pediatric patients, too, and…well, horny old women who would love to feel your muscles.”
I laugh hard at that. “Horny old women? In a nursing home?”
“Oh my god, you have no idea. The second and third shift break up more geriatric hookups than we do during the day shift, but it still happens.”
“Aw, why not just let them have a little fun?”
She arches her brows. “They’re in a nursing home for a reason. Last year a patient broke her hip giving another patient a blow job.”
“Damn.”
I pull up to the valet in front of the Chophouse and we get out of the car, walking into the restaurant together. As soon as we’re seated at a secluded table toward the back, I order a glass of their best bourbon, needing a few sips of liquid courage before I tell Kylie what she deserves to know about me. She orders white wine, and as she lifts the glass to her lips, I admire her from my side of the table. Her face is straight out of a painting—beautiful smile, smooth porcelain skin, and eyes the same amber shade of my drink.
A substantial amount of my time is devoted to thinking about things I want to do to her. But tonight, I’m focused on something else.
“Do I want steak or chicken?” she asks as she scans the menu.
“Steak.” I clear my throat and reach over to her side of the table, lowering the menu she’s reading.
It’s now or never. “Kylie, I was…married once. We’re divorced now, but I want to tell you about it.”
Her lips part slightly as she seems to realize we’re about to have a very serious conversation. “Married? I mean…that’s okay, but I had no idea. Does Pike know?”
I shrug. “Probably. But because of what happened, no one ever brings it up with me.”
Kylie pushes the menu aside, putting her elbows on the table and giving me her full attention.
Taking another sip of the bourbon, I feel warring senses of dread and relief over what I’m about to tell her. I don’t talk about my past with anyone. It hurts too much to relive it. But Kylie deserves to know.