Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“She knows that, Liss.”
Hope traveled like a shooting star across her face. “How do you know? Have you talked to her?”
Burgess took a moment to breathe. “Not in a while. But she knows you love her, Lissa.”
“You love her, too. And I made her leave.”
“I’m just as guilty of making her leave, kid. Believe me.”
“When is she coming back?” She looked down at her fingers as she twisted them together. “I didn’t even get to tell her I got picked to play Juliet in English class.”
“You did?” he managed to say. “Damn. Congratulations, kid. I’m proud of you.” The next part burned his esophagus, because it was so true. So heavily true. “Tallulah would be proud of you, too. You know that.”
“Please. I wouldn’t have done it without her. I want to tell her in person.”
All Burgess could do was shake his head. She wasn’t going to come back. He’d blown it. Not only for himself, but for Lissa. If he’d let her stay and help him through surgery and recovery, the family unit they’d formed would still be intact. God, that burned. He would kill to have her there right now, smelling like blood oranges and basil, her calming energy lifting everyone else around her like a steady wind. Instead, he had stale air and desolation.
“She’s coming back, right?” Lissa asked again, pools of tears forming in her eyes.
Burgess glanced at Sig and Wells, even the knucklehead rookies, for help, but they only looked back at him expectantly. And he knew that expression. It was go hard or go home. What else could he expect from a room full of professional athletes? And maybe, as fucking obnoxious as this intervention had been . . . he’d needed it. As galling as it was to admit.
He could remain lying in this hospital bed, letting life carry on outside without him, Tallulah eventually—or maybe already—moving on from him. Dating a professor. Wearing bathing suits in Costa Rica. Going on adventures without him.
He could hide from his mistake, instead of confronting it. Apologizing. Making it right.
He could explain to his daughter that Tallulah wasn’t coming back and hope she eventually got over the loss.
Or he could get up and fight. Rehab his back, get whole again . . .
And go to that wedding and get his woman.
Burgess flicked a look at Sig.
Sig nodded.
Burgess pointed at Wells. “I’ll go to rehab if you take back their plus ones. Tallulah and Chloe. No dates allowed.”
Wells rocked back on his heels. “Is that what that whole silent communication thing was about earlier?”
They gave a synchronized shrug.
One of the Orgasm Donors smacked the other one in the shoulder. “Why don’t we communicate silently like that?”
“We do. What am I thinking about right now?”
“Banana pudding.”
“Holy shit!”
“Fine.” Wells sighed, but the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Worked like a charm.”
“I hate you,” Burgess deadpanned.
“Josephine thought we needed a fail-safe. That’s why she was the best caddie I’ve ever had.” He pressed a fist to his mouth. “God, I’m going to marry the shit out of her.”
“What’s everyone talking about, Dad?”
“Sorry, Lissa.” He hesitated to say the next part, but if he really thought about it, there could be no other outcome. Not without him losing his will to live. Did that mean . . . he had one now? Yeah. He looked at his daughter, who meant so much more to him than hockey. He thought of Tallulah and how she felt in his arms, how her voice sounded like it had been missing from his ears his whole life. “Go get the paperwork, Sig.” He stroked a hand down the back of Lissa’s hair. “I’m going down to Costa Rica to get Tallulah back. But I’ve got some work to do first.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tallulah looked down at the orange and golden leaves of New Hampshire from fifteen hundred feet in the air, the cool wind drying tear tracks on her cheeks. They weren’t tears of devastation, like the ones she’d been crying for over a week, even while going through the motions. School, sleep, activities. Go go go. Not sitting with the heartbreak long enough for it to consume her. No, these were tears of appreciation for the stunning world below.
The landscape rolled forever, disappearing into a bright blue sky. So much bigger than her. Bigger than anything, right? But just like a lot of the platitudes she’d been feeding herself since Pittsburgh, telling herself that her problems were tiny in comparison to the world . . . didn’t help the pain so much. Now the fact that she’d rekindled her courage alone? Put it to use by kayaking, hot air ballooning, trying new restaurants, existing with a broken heart?
That helped. A lot.
Truthfully, Tallulah wasn’t as nervous to be fifteen hundred feet in the air as she’d expected to be. For one, she’d kept her promise to herself. To stop hiding. Ejected herself from the safety of quiet research labs in remote areas, away from people and reminders of what happened with Brett, and she’d forced herself back among the living. She’d danced, she’d skinny dipped, gone back to school, made friends, taken a chance on love.