Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
What the hell am I still doing here listening to my brothers squawk?
I could be trying harder, fixing the gaping hole I cut in our relationship.
He’s right.
I need to move my ass and patch this up before she walks out the door forever.
And knowing Winnie and how willing she is to flee when things seem hopeless, it’s probably going to be sooner rather than later.
“I need to go,” I say, and Patton smirks.
“That’s the spirit. Go get her, Arch.”
“We’ve got this,” Dexter says, waving me to the door. “Just go home and relax. Remember to talk to her like a normal human being. You’d be surprised how far it’ll get you.”
“Fuck you guys,” I mutter on my way out.
They both dissolve into laughter.
My brothers are adults, yes, but they still behave like punk-ass teenagers with me.
Even so, I’m grateful for their shit.
If it wasn’t for them, I’d probably be paralyzed, rather than driving home, looking for Winnie’s heart.
I have to see her.
I have to apologize.
I have to undo this and show her she can trust me.
I just hope it’s not too fucking late.
23
HONEYPOT (WINNIE)
Ididn’t think it was possible for a human being to cry so much.
Aside from blood, which remains in my veins, I never knew I had this much fluid to lose. Scalding tears leak from my eyes. My nose runs in an ugly stream that no amount of tissues seems to help.
I guess when they say the body is like fifty percent water, they aren’t kidding.
But when I fled my own wedding, I didn’t cry half this much. When I left my entire life behind for the unknown, I just had the occasional weepy fit.
It wasn’t this.
And this is a full-blown Winnie meltdown.
Disgusting and wet and body-shaking. Shuddering breaths, breathy sobs, red cheeks, the works.
It makes it harder to see to pack my stuff, but I’m working on it.
Archer went to another meeting, I assume, probably stomping through the mess I left him in. I need to take advantage of the opportunity to get the hell out of here and save face while I still have a chance.
Before he comes back and one look at his gorgeous face makes me crumble and want to stay.
Before I talk myself into ignoring how much my very presence hurts him.
God, it’s so weird breaking up with a man you were never really with, but who still means the world to you.
Archer can say whatever he likes, but when he told me I should just shut up and trust him, everything snapped into place.
It’s not right.
And I don’t mean he isn’t right for me when he’s perfect, possessive, and kinder than anyone I’ve ever known.
But this situation…
No matter how magical it feels with him, I can’t ignore the risk that I’m costing his company millions and running it straight into the ground. That’s not just him at risk or even his brothers, but everyone they employ, not to mention the customers who enjoy such beautiful places.
All because he stepped in to play hero and Dad’s ego couldn’t handle it.
I hate this.
I toss an empty box of tissues to the side and frantically dab at my eyes. Crying this much shouldn’t be possible.
I should be a shriveled husk right now, drained of all moisture.
But somehow the tears keep coming, the eyeball equivalent of dry heaves.
At least fitting all my stuff into my bags goes faster than I thought. I leave the new clothes he insisted on buying me last week hanging in the closet.
It’s not too late to return them, and I’m not going to make him waste another penny.
I even leave the shirt I’ve been sleeping in, torn between throwing it in the washer or abandoning it. I can’t waste too much time.
Also, it still smells faintly like him. In a moment of weakness, I press it to my face and inhale him.
Yeah, leaving a man I’m totally wrong for shouldn’t hurt this much.
He even made it perfectly clear we weren’t ever together, didn’t he?
Not really.
But then there was that whole conversation in the woods, where he said without really saying it that we might have a chance.
There was also a heap of drama with his ex and stuff with Colt and it was—it was nice while it lasted.
Now, it’s over.
Someday, I hope I can look back on my time with Archer Rory as an innocent mistake, a ‘loved and lost’ that was never meant to be. He was everything I needed in my darkest hour, and everything I had to let go before I plunged him into night.
I throw the shirt in the hamper—no one should touch that again until it’s clean after my snotty face was on it—and then I haul my stuff downstairs.
I march out to my vehicle and stuff the trunk full.
Then it’s back to the kitchen for the finishing touch.