Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“No.” You’d have to have been together to split up. “Not really,” I correct.
He shoots me a dubious look. “Which one is it?”
My chest twinges with self-loathing. I drag a hand down my face, muttering, “She wants to try. I want to try. But I don’t want to hurt her if I can’t be the guy she needs.”
“Maybe let her make that decision,” Carter says, like it’s that easy.
But…
Damn him. That’s good advice. I never gave her a choice. “Could I?” Except, reality hits me like an anvil dropped from a skyscraper. “Fuck.” I curse louder than I intended. “She’s throwing herself a breakup party. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The big guy looks my way. “Maybe you need to make it a double.”
“Maybe that’ll knock some sense into him,” Carter says, while pointing his thumb at me.
“Does he need sense knocked into him? That’s my specialty,” the guy replies, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Are you a linebacker? They’re always trying to knock sense into someone,” Carter asks.
“Linebacker of sorts,” he says, then nods as the bartender returns our way. “Name is Banks. Close protection officer.”
The bartender sets down the shots, offering a helpful smile along with the liquor. “Translation: bodyguard.”
Yeah, I knew that. But I don’t say that. “I probably do need the sense knocked into me,” I admit.
The bartender takes off to handle some new customers, but Banks is all in. Turning his big frame toward us, he says, “Let me guess. You messed up with your special someone?”
“He did,” Carter offers, clapping my shoulder, happy to pile on. I deserve the piling on.
Banks arches a brow. “And now she’s left you and she’s celebrating? Did I hear that right?”
With an oh shit whistle Carter whips his gaze back to me. “Exactly. You’ve got your work cut out for you, man. She’s moving on.”
Again, the assessment is quick and cutting.
And wholly accurate.
After my dad’s retirement party, Juliet’s throwing what amounts to a breakup party—her favorite breakup party—for me. The one where she hired a makeup artist, and they went out for karaoke. She’s doing it to move on from me.
Even if I asked her, there’s no way she’s going to wait for me.
Everyone is moving on in their lives but me. What am I doing with my life? “And I’m throwing myself a pity party,” I say, turning the shot glass as aimlessly as I’m living my life.
Banks snorts. “No one wants to be invited to that.”
That’s the damn truth and so is this one. There is no waiting. There’s only now.
I need to find a way to keep Juliet. Because what if I could be the man she needs? What if I could make a go of it? What if I could let her decide if I’m good enough instead of making the decision for her?
You don’t ask a woman to wait for you. You treat her like the queen she is. I knock back my shot, pay for all our drinks, then take off with Carter, making a pit stop on the way.
32
PAPA BEAR
Monroe
There’s just one little problem.
This party. Time is running out now after my errand, and I promised my dad I’d be there. Promised him I’d make a speech. Promised Juliet I’d take her as my date. She’ll be meeting me soon. Even though I let her down, she’ll still show up. I don’t deserve her, but I’m going to try with everything in me.
I pull into a parking spot at the golf course in Duck Falls, arriving early. Wishing I could speed up time, I race walk into the clubhouse. Dad’s chatting with a woman in chef whites. She gives a nod, then heads to the kitchen.
He turns around and scans the room, spotting me quickly. I head to him, tugging on the cuffs of my suit jacket, antsy to get this show on the road. Eager for the party to end, so I can take Juliet out. I hope. When she arrives, I’ll ask her on a proper date tonight.
I’m still working through what to say to her as my dad reaches me. “You’re antsy.”
It’s that obvious? “I’m fine,” I say, keeping up a wall.
His brow knits. “You sure?”
No, I’m in a total funk, and I’m this close to losing the love of my life, and maybe I already have, and I wish she were here, and I need to make sure she doesn’t move on from me.
But fuck walls. I need to be more honest. I should start with him. “Not really,” I admit.
Dad sets a hand on my shoulder, guides me down a quiet hallway. “What’s going on with you, son?”
He hasn’t asked me that in years. “Do you actually want to know?”
There’s a long silence. He blows out a breath. Drags a hand through his thick gray hair. He’s gearing up to say something important and the last time he said something important to me he taught me how to shave. It’s been years since we talked for real. “I do. And here’s why. I’ve been planning my retirement for a year now. And the first thing everyone asks is if I’m excited to spend more time with family. It’s made me realize that I’ve done a terrible job of it. All that time fixing other people, and I never realized that our family is broken.”