Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I swipe away a tear that drops from the corner of my eye.
“You just wouldn’t stay away from me, and every single time, I wanted to swipe at you for it. I did swipe at you. I said horrible things to you, and I thought even worse things.”
“Baby girl, you have to stop beating yourself up.” He brushes away the tears.
“Why wouldn’t you just leave me alone? Why did you keep coming back for more of my wrath?”
“Because I couldn’t stay away from you.” There is no pause in his reply. No moment to reflect or think about it. “Because I was selfish, and I needed to see you like a fish needs water. Even if you were telling me to go fuck myself, at least I could hear your voice. If you were glaring at me, mentally planning my demise, at least I could see those amazing eyes. I knew that I deserved everything you dished out, and if you hurting me was the only way I could see you, so be it.”
“You’ve had too much pain, Holden.” I frame his face in my trembling hands. “More than any one person should have in their whole life. You don’t deserve that, and it stops now. Do you understand me?”
“Oh, baby, it stopped the minute you agreed to marry me. Nothing can ever touch me again as long as I have you.”
Sobbing, I burrow into him, and he wraps his arms tightly around me, rubbing his strong hands up and down my back as he murmurs words of love into my ear.
Later, when we’ve quieted and we’re all tangled up together, we fall asleep.
“How did you manage to get today off?” We’re sitting on the bed, eating takeout burgers for lunch. I’m in one of his T-shirts, and he’s in those gray sweats that make me crazy, and we’ve barely left this room all morning.
“I’m the boss, baby girl.” He smirks and opens his mouth when I offer him a french fry. “How about you?”
“Same.” I shrug. “I should have gone in, since I was gone for the branding yesterday, but they have it under control, and I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week. We’re newlyweds, after all.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “We need to go on a honeymoon.”
I smirk. “No, we don’t.”
“That’s something that newlyweds do.”
“I would say that our marriage has been anything but traditional.” I finish my burger and set the wrappers on the floor by the bed. “I don’t need the rock and the dress and the trip.”
His gaze drops to my finger at the mention of a rock, and I shake my head.
“I like my band. I work with food, so a band is the most sanitary anyway. Seriously, I have no complaints. How did we even start this conversation?”
I want to change the subject. I don’t want him to think that I need anything more than what he’s already given me.
“I should try to go see my dad this afternoon.” I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “He’s not answering my texts or calls, and he can’t avoid me forever. He’s my dad. So, I’m going to take control and make him talk to me.”
I eye my husband, who’s watching me with shrewd blue eyes.
“I should go alone.”
“I agree. But I’ll be at my ranch, just five minutes away, if you need me.”
I love that Holden is always ready to jump in to help me, defend me, love me. It’s the best feeling in the world to know that all I have to do is ask him for help.
We get dressed and take separate vehicles out of town. I turn off first, onto Wild River Ranch Road, and Holden continues up the highway to his place.
I stay to the right when the road forks, headed to where my parents live in a newer, smaller house than the farmhouse that we all grew up in. Remington and his family live in the big house now, as it should be.
I notice that Dad’s big white truck is parked in the driveway, so he should be home.
Once I’ve parked, I pick up my phone and see that Holden has sent a text.
Your Husband: You’ve got this.
Why is he so perfect? I shoot back the kissy face emoji.
Stashing my phone in my purse, I climb out of the car and walk up the two steps to the front door. I’ve never knocked on my parents’ door in my life.
Never.
But this time, I do, and it feels so weird, I want to cry. However, I’ve done enough crying in the last couple of weeks, and I’m determined to keep it together for this.
Mom answers the door, and her eyes go a little wide before she tugs me to her for a big hug.
“Hello, my brave girl.”