Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I knew before we even got out of the car.
"This is it, huh?" Ty asked, moving to stand next to me at the side of the car, looking at the small front porch where I could see us standing in the morning, waiting for our son or daughter to get on the school bus, waving to us from the window.
"This is it," I agreed.
"Alright. Let me go find the realtor."
I went to laugh at that.
It wasn't that easy.
There could be other offers.
There was the matter of loans and mortgage affordability quotes.
But, as it turned out, when someone was willing to pay cash at ten grand over the asking price, it really was that easy.
His arms wrapped around me when the tears - hormonal, they had to be hormonal, right? - Welled up in my eyes. "I love you," I told his chest, feeling it to a depth I never knew existed before.
"Love you too, babe," he said, kissing the top of my hair, his hands moving comfortingly over my back for a long minute before sinking into my ass playfully, making me laugh as I pulled away.
"Gonna have to put a swing set up," Ty told me as we climbed back in the car, making my head whip over, my surprise clear on my face. "I'm a lot of things, babe, dense isn't one of them. Haven't touched the pizza bagels. Eased up on the coffee. Won't ride on my bike anymore. Being picky as fuck about the house 'cause you know we need extra room and a yard. When were you planning on telling me?"
"When I knew for sure," I told him, shrugging it away.
"Well, let's stop on the way home," he suggested. "Let's get sure."
That night after eating pork chops with sides of mashed potatoes and green beans, while waiting for the banana bread to bake, we both huddled in the bathroom, me on the toilet lid, Ty on the edge of the tub, waiting for the timer.
According to the box, one meant nothing.
And life could go on as usual
Two meant we were about to be three.
Sure enough, life as we knew it was about to change.
The next morning, I rolled over to find Ty in bed.
With a diamond ring.
Virgin - 2 years
Roan came flying up the stairs, not even remembering to close the front door on the way out in his hurry.
It seemed the storm he had been waiting for had finally blown into town.
Virgin - 3 years
If there was one person I never expected to see walking into The Henchmen clubhouse, it was my brother-in-law.
Not Thad.
He always showed up when some big event was going on.
But Colson.
The man who approved of my love of his sister, of the life we had started, the family we were building.
But never my lifestyle.
"Colson, everything alright?" I asked, getting to my feet as Sugar sent me a lowered brow look.
"Can we talk?" he asked, voice weighted. It was then I noticed the tension. In his jaw. His shoulders. His hands were clenched down by his sides. "In private?" he added, looking around at Sugar, West, Cam, and Edison.
"Sure. Let's take a walk out back," I agreed. "What's going on?" I asked as soon as we were halfway into the backyard.
"I don't have anywhere else to turn."
"What's wrong?"
Both his hands rose, scraping up his forehead, over the top of his head.
"I lost my job."
He lost another job.
He used to have the security job at a club at night, but the owner had gone belly-up, closing without a warning, holding their last paychecks hostage.
That had been less than a month ago.
And I knew that he must have already been hurting financially.
Neither job paid that much. He paid a lot in rent to live in a nice area of town so he could send Jelly to a good school. He had her dance classes. And lately, karate. Freddie had suggested it, had wanted to give it to her niece as a gift, but Colson was a man with a lot of pride. He had insisted on paying for it himself. He also had a savings he put away for her college.
So losing one of the jobs had to have made him hurt.
Losing the second one must have been devastating.
"Downsizing?"
"Someone fucking accused me of stealing," he told me, his breath a savage hiss. "Me. Been there forever. Never even took a ketchup packet home. But they are sure it was me. Fired just like that. No reference. And, to be perfectly honest - and it fucking kills me to admit this - I was already hurting."
"That's fucked, man," I told him, shaking my head. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't make me beg," he demanded.
Beg?
My head twisted to look at him. Seeing the desperation, the uncertainty, but also the determination.
And I understood.
I had once told Freddie that if he ever needed a better-paying job, more security for him and his daughter, to get in touch with me.