Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I hum. “Are you going to tell her about us?”
“I’m not sure yet. She’s never been that receptive to the suggestion of a threesome, so I don’t know how she’d handle hearing about us.”
We mirror each other’s shit-eating grins, but mine fades first. “In a strictly friendly way, I will miss you.”
“That’s disappointing. I will miss you in a strictly sexual way.”
With a dismissive smile, I open the door. “If you don’t get going, the only thing you’ll miss is your flight.”
His hands slide around my waist, hugging my back to his chest. His forehead rests on the crown of my head. No words. Just slow breaths.
My skin prickles with a flood of emotions that I can’t articulate. They have nowhere to go.
I wait.
And wait.
With each passing breath shared in silence, my heart cracks a little more. Aches a little deeper.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“For what,” he murmurs just before pressing his lips to my head.
“For whatever happened to your family.”
He stiffens for a moment. I’m sure this seems out of the blue because he knows I don’t know what happened. And that’s okay. As much as I want to crawl into his heart and take away whatever keeps him from feeling worthy of love, I’m okay with offering blind compassion.
“Thank you,” Fitz whispers, releasing me. He picks up his bag and struts to the exit without making eye contact again—a vanishing figure tugging my heartstrings.
“Calvin Fitzgerald?” I yell, wiping my tears before they escape.
He stops, but he doesn’t turn.
“If you were normal and didn’t have an awful past, do you think you could love me?” My fierce heart always trumps my controlled thoughts.
I’m not sure he heard me.
But then he continues toward the exit. “Jaymes, if I were normal, I’d love you enough. The problem is, I’m not normal, so I’d love you too much.”
Not one look back.
The door closes behind him. Another apartment door opens, and a woman steps out, glancing in my direction. Then she does a double take.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I nod despite the flood of tears trailing down my cheeks.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
CALVIN
“She’s a goddess,” Travis says, pausing the swing of his Pulaski to glance at the fire for a second.
I keep digging, but not without a slight chuckle. “You call every fire a goddess. I don’t know if one this size deserves such a grand label.”
“Fitz, you know she has potential. All the small ones have potential when there’s no fucking humidity in the air, and it’s eighty-five goddamn degrees in September.”
By the following day, the six of us are ready to pack out, and Travis is trying to get a cell signal. “Laney’s due any day. If I miss the birth, I think she’s going to leave my sorry ass.”
My back gives me a little protest when I slide well over a hundred pounds of equipment onto it. “You didn’t plan that well. Sex in February. Babies in December.”
“Sounds like a guy who doesn’t have a wife or a girlfriend.” Travis hikes his pack onto his back. “Some of us like to have sex during all the months of the year.”
“You’re a dumbass. You know that, right?”
“Speaking of getting your dick wet, I heard you visited Jamie in California.”
“I visited my grandma. And I don’t know what you do with your granny, but mine doesn’t get my dick wet.”
Travis laughs. “But does a certain nurse do it for you?”
Fuck yes.
Her hand sliding into the front of my briefs.
The grin she gives me, as if she’s surprised I’m so hard for her.
Her nipples brushing my chest when she grinds against me.
Her hair in my face while she hovers above me, waiting for me to lift my head and steal her soft lips.
“Just keep your head in the game. If you spend too much time thinking about Laney at home, you’ll fuck up and not make it home.”
“What awaits you at home?”
I grunt. “Nothing. That’s why I always make it home.”
We scatter like quail for the pack out. The trek to the pickup spot is rarely a team activity. It’s alone time for reflection. This is the life. It’s easy to be with Jamie and think of the future I’m missing, but I feel at peace—at home—when I’m in this quietude, a mere speck among trees and fissured earth trails.
It’s six miles to the lake, where a boat awaits us. When we return to the base, not only is Laney not in labor, she’s there, waiting for Travis.
“I’m all dirty, baby,” he says when she throws her arms around his neck, body angled to accommodate her baby belly.
“The doctor said he’ll induce me in the morning if I don’t go before then, so we don’t have to worry about you missing the birth.”
Travis hunches in front of her, resting grubby hands on her belly. “Did you hear that, Scooter? Tomorrow, you get to meet your dad.”