Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Yet every time I walk from the back porch to the kitchen to grab something, I can hear Kinsley’s and Taylor’s laughter from the library that I built for Taylor.
Since it’s only the two of us in a three-bedroom house with a living room and den and I don’t need an office, I turned the den into a library as a surprise for her seventeenth birthday. The way she squealed and cried and hugged me, telling me I was the best dad ever, told me I’d picked the right gift for my book-obsessed daughter.
I set the plate of ribs on the table next to the grilled potatoes, veggies, and rolls, and then I head over to the library to let the girls know dinner’s ready. But as I’m walking toward the back of the house where the library is, my phone pings with an email.
When I click on my mailbox, it’s mostly spam, but my eye catches on an earlier email I must’ve missed from Exposed Ink. I click into it and read it twice, confused as to why my appointment has been canceled.
Since the only woman who can explain this is sitting in my house, I head straight back to ask her. I’m expecting to find her and my daughter, but only Kinsley is sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, looking through a paperback.
When she hears me enter, she looks up and smiles softly. “Taylor’s in the bathroom. She has quite the collection.” Her eyes track the shelves filled with hundreds of books. “I told her she’ll have to come by my parents’ place one day. My mom has a library that could rival this one.”
“That would imply you’re planning to see my daughter again,” I say, stepping in front of Kinsley and then kneeling so I’m at her level.
“I …” She opens and closes her mouth. “If you don’t want me to—”
“You’re more than welcome to see Taylor anytime you want. I guess I’m just confused since you canceled our appointment.”
I raise a brow, and she looks at me sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I know it was unprofessional, but …” Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and she sniffles. “I don’t know what it is about you and your daughter, but you guys have this weird way of making me lower the wall I’ve worked so hard to build. I hadn’t told anyone about my daughter, other than my family, who already knew, yet you confided in me about your daughter, and in turn, I was word-vomiting all over you.”
I can’t help but smile at her words, which makes her glare.
“I love how you’re reveling in my misery,” she mutters.
“I’m not reveling in anything,” I say with a chuckle. “But you just admitted that even though you didn’t want to let me in, you did, which means there just might be hope for you yet.”
I’m only joking—sort of—but I know it’s the wrong thing to say when Kinsley frowns.
“Shane.” She sighs. “I canceled the appointment because, even though it’s obvious that you’re a good guy and you said you’re okay with just being friends, you also made it clear you’d still like more from me, and the truth is, I don’t have anything more to give you or anyone for that matter. I gave it all to my husband and unborn baby … and then they died.”
A single tear slides down her cheek, and I reach out and swipe it away with my thumb, hating to see her cry.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, palming the side of her face. “I hate that you went through something so devastating, and I won’t even pretend to know how you must feel because I’ve never experienced any type of loss that comes close to what you went through.”
“I did it,” she whispers. “I was driving. I’m the reason they’re dead.”
Oh shit. Now, her comment about killing her daughter makes sense. And not only did her daughter die, but so did her husband.
“If I hadn’t …” she chokes out, unable to finish her sentence.
Without thought, I drop to my knees and wrap my arms around her.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to say anything.” I rub my hands up and down her back as she softly cries into my chest. “You went through something that no parent or spouse should ever have to go through, and the fact that you’re still getting up every day and functioning proves how damn strong you are.”
“I’m not—”
“What’s going on?” Taylor says, cutting Kinsley off.
Reluctantly, I release Kinsley and stand. “Kinsley was just having a moment,” I tell her. “Why don’t we give her a second and you can help me get drinks? Dinner’s ready.”
Taylor glances at Kinsley with concern but says, “Okay, the bathroom is down the hall if you need to wash up.”