Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Her honesty felt like I’d taken a kick straight to the stomach.
Hell, that’s all I felt like I was experiencing these days. Gut punches.
“I’m scared, too,” I told her. “I’m scared that you’ll leave me after deciding I’m too much work. I’m scared that you’ll hate this place. I’m scared that you won’t give me a second chance. I’m scared that you’ll never forgive me for not telling you about that warrant where you got hurt. I’m scared that you won’t forgive me for putting your brother in jail. I’m scared about a whole fuckin’ lot of things.”
She leaned her head on my chest for the longest of times before saying, “I think I’ll take you up on that nap.”
It wasn’t quite the words I wanted to hear, but they were good enough for now.
“Sleep,” I ordered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I love it when a man tells me what to do. I won’t listen, but I like how it sounds.
—Shayne to Ande
SHAYNE
Three days later, I’d gotten flowers from the entire Carter family, my brother—and how he did this from prison I didn’t know—and my assistant boss, Cleo.
What I’d also gotten was smothered.
Quinn wouldn’t allow me to be alone for a single second.
If he wasn’t there, then Ande was.
Or Garnett.
Or any of the Carters.
Hell, even Keene was over here staying with me while everyone went to work.
I was exhausted and in need of a people break.
I was at the breaking point, and Quinn had no clue.
So when he asked me to do something I loved, I, of course, snapped.
“Sing with me, baby,” Quinn urged.
I looked over at him, my lungs hurting from just thinking about singing.
“I can’t,” I told him.
“The doctor said that you needed to exercise your lungs,” he disagreed with me while he sat me up in the bed where we’d been lounging. “I think singing is the perfect way to do that.”
It was.
I mean, it wasn’t like I could get up.
That didn’t mean I wanted to do something that I loved, that I adored doing with him and my Nonna once upon a time, again.
There was only so much of my heart he could rip out and stomp on.
Singing with him would only break away the last few pieces.
“No.”
He ignored my protests and started to sing.
It was… bad.
He had only managed to get worse since he used to do this with my grandmother and me, but the song he chose made my heart fuckin’ hurt.
“Make You Feel My Love.”
“Goddammit, Quinn,” I breathed. “Goddamn everything about you.”
I threw the covers off, intent on escape, and realized that there was nowhere for me to go.
I could hear his brothers in the living room.
I’d heard Ande and Garnett talking in the kitchen when Quinn had gone out to get me a drink earlier.
In the last three days, I’d gone from numb to downright depressed.
The reality of my situation was overwhelming me.
I had no way to work for another ten days. I didn’t have a place to call home. I didn’t have any family left. My brother was in jail. My Nonna was still dead. Quinn was saying all the right things, but in my heart, I just couldn’t believe him.
Because, since he’d left me, nothing good had ever happened to me.
Literally, every single thing that had happened was bad.
Meaning, I couldn’t trust a freakin’ thing that came out of Quinn’s mouth.
The reality of my situation was just… too much.
I’d gone from being able to talk to wondering how I was going to get out of bed.
Quinn was right to worry.
And the fucker was still singing.
Tears started to form in my eyes, that I swore were from frustration and not sadness.
I turned away and stared out of the window.
Quinn had opened the blinds when he’d walked into his bedroom twenty minutes ago after he arrived home on his lunch break.
His comment of ‘the sun will do you good’ was probably correct. I knew the importance of a daily dose of vitamin D. But I didn’t want to see the sun. I didn’t want to see anything but the backs of my eyelids.
Quinn’s voice changed, going deeper, more hypnotic.
Then it came closer, and I was reminded why I always felt that he could sing.
Those deep notes he could really, really hit.
It targeted something deep inside me that had my breath hitching, and my heart soaring.
“Another Try” by Josh Turner had my head drooping, chin meeting my chest.
I was really messed up.
I also had to admit that I’d been morose lately, and unwilling to listen to Quinn even a little bit.
I’d been here, but I hadn’t been present.
And he’d noticed.
By him singing this song, he was reminding me that he was going to try harder. That he wanted this to work out. That he wanted me to forgive him.
I didn’t know if I had it in me to forgive him.