Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“That’s because, so far, everything you do is hot.”
Her mascara was totally fucked up and her eyes were already a bit swollen.
But she made even that hot.
He didn’t share that.
“I’m really looking forward to meeting Hound,” she said.
And shit.
He needed to get on that.
He shifted them so they were still connected but aimed at the dining room table.
He then started them that way.
“He’s looking forward to that too.”
She gave him a squeeze.
While he was returning it, Andy caught his eye.
And Jag knew, even if fathers of daughters with dead mothers didn’t have long memories, he was still in with this family.
Because Andy Harmon cried at sad movies, loved and helped raise two girls who were not his own, adored their mother, and put up with a ton of shit from his son because he was his son and he loved him too.
So that was the house he built.
And that was the people he had in it.
And Jagger was now in that house.
So that was the way it always was going to go.
Jag made sure Archie was seated before he took his own chair.
And as Andy put cupcakes on plates and passed them around, everyone got two.
Except Andy, he took three.
And Jag, who got three too.
* * * *
Jag was on his back, Archie curled into his side, nuzzling his skin with her nose and mouth and trailing her fingers over his chest. He had his arm around her and was tracing random patterns on the skin of her shoulder.
They’d fucked, she’d cleaned up, and they were in her bed even though they’d planned to spend the night at his pad (after the emotion of the day, he wanted her to have her space).
It was dark because it was late.
But the space by the bed lit up with her phone going again.
She had it on silent.
And neither of them had to look to know who it was.
“How many is that?” he asked softly.
“Who cares?”
She did, he knew.
He said nothing.
Her brother was blowing up her phone.
She didn’t block him, but she didn’t pick up.
To take her mind off it, he urged, “Tell me about Haley’s ex.”
She drew in a breath, let it go, which he hoped was letting the shit happening with her brother go (at least for now) and gave it to him.
“I’ve only seen him a couple of times. Never met him. Liane played lacrosse in high school. He came to a few games. He’s a workaholic. He abandoned them without officially abandoning them, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” he confirmed.
He felt rather than saw her nod.
She then continued.
“Haley tried to get him to work on their marriage, not his job, he kept promising he would, but didn’t. She got fed up with it, and when he was away on business, which he was a lot, she had the locks changed. Asked him for a separation. He’s not big on failure and wouldn’t even discuss it. He also wouldn’t change his ways and spend more time in his roles as a husband and father. So she saw no way forward except to file for divorce. He’s never forgiven her and he’s not the kind of guy who lets things lie. That means now, even though they’ve been divorced since the girls were little, I think it’s been maybe ten, twelve years, he still intermittently gets in her shit about ‘giving up on them.’”
“What a dick.”
“Yeah, and I will note, I saw him go to a few of Liane’s games. And I didn’t go to all of her games, but I’d say more than half of the ones I went to, he wasn’t there. But Dad never missed one. And Hellen plays the flute, and she’s had some concerts, and I’ve never seen their dad at Hellen’s gigs, not once. My dad…again, always.”
“Really dig your dad, baby,” he murmured.
She cuddled closer. “I do too.”
He grinned at the ceiling, tracing random partners on the point of her shoulder.
“We need to arrange you to meet my folks,” he told her.
“I really wanna do that. Do you think they’d come here? My haul today included this pretty kickass table with these pale blue bucket chairs. I haven’t put it out on the floor because it’d fit perfect up here. And I need a dining room table. They could help me christen it.”
“They’d love that.”
“They can name the night, boyfriend. All my nights are for you anyway.”
Christ, he liked that.
So much, he rolled into her and took her in both of his arms in a way she knew how to read.
This meant she pressed into him and tipped her head back for his kiss.
When he finished with her mouth, he whispered, “I’m sorry your day sucked.”
“It happens.”
“Wanna fuck again?”
“Yes.”
He grinned at her.
Then he kissed her.
And after that, they fucked again.
Chapter Fifteen
I Try to Be