Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Gabriel!”
“I know, I know, okay. Violence is never the answer. But those fuckers…” I grumbled as I struggled to open my left eye. “They were oinking at her, and it pissed me off. So I tried to get them to apologize, and then the dad made a few inappropriate jokes about Ava’s weight, and next thing I knew, I was swinging and Ava was karate-kicking the boys’ private parts.”
Kierra’s eyes flashed with a look I wasn’t certain how to decipher. She touched my face slightly and I tensed up from the pain. I had a splitting headache. She then frowned and stood. She headed for the front door, and I felt an ache of sadness, realizing I’d pissed her off.
“Kierra—”
“Don’t,” she ordered, holding up a hand toward me.
She walked out of the room, and I slumped in my chair. What the hell was I thinking? Getting into a fight like that in front of a kid? Telling her to kick her bullies’ asses? I knew better than that. I was better than that. But for some reason, watching that grown man talk down to Ava sent a rage through me that I wasn’t certain I could hold in. It was one thing for teenage boys to be idiots, but to watch a grown man look at Ava and make those disgusting noises…
I sat for a few minutes, debating what I could text Kierra to show the depth of my apology. As I sat with my phone in my hands, I paused when I saw Kierra reentering my office with an ice pack wrapped with paper towel. I didn’t say a word, and neither did she. She walked over and sat back down on my desk, leaned toward me, and placed the ice pack against my face.
I cringed slightly from the chill, but I took a deep breath as she held it in place.
“You’re better than this,” she whispered. “You’re too mature to go around punching grown men.”
“I know,” I agreed. “It was idiotic.”
“It was,” she echoed. “But also…thoughtful. And heroic.”
I sighed. “I don’t want you or Ava to think less of me for this, Kierra. It was an impulse thing, and I hate that it happened. You don’t beat bullies by attacking them. I’m sorry I even gave Ava that shitty advice.”
“Yes. Maybe we should just stick with blueprints with her.”
I huffed, feeling like complete dog shit. “Yeah, of course. Sorry. I just have a solid three rules when it comes to violence, I suppose.”
“What are those rules?”
“Rule number one, never lay a hand on children. Number two, never lay a hand on women. And number three, knock out any man who breaks my first two rules.” Kierra’s fingers slightly brushed against my cheek as a small laugh escaped her. “What’s funny?” I asked.
“Nothing, nothing. This just reminded me of someone I once knew. He used to be like you. He’d do anything to defend my honor.”
“What happened with him?” I asked.
“Well.” She pulled the ice pack away and gently touched the edges of my eye. Her eyes locked with mine and her lips quivered into a hesitant smile. “I fell in love with him.”
“And then you married him?”
“Oh, gosh, no. He wasn’t Henry.”
That didn’t surprise me in the slightest.
She placed the ice pack back on my eye.
“How many times have you been in love before?” I asked. It was probably too personal, but I couldn’t help but wonder how many men caught the heart of Kierra and lost it before she settled in with Henry.
“Just twice.”
“What happened to the first love? Did he break your heart?”
“No,” she quickly stated, shaking her head. “I don’t think he could break anyone’s heart if he wanted to. He was one of the good ones. One of the best.”
“So, you broke his heart?”
“In a way, maybe. But really, life broke both of our hearts. It has a way of taking great things and ruining them.” She shifted slightly on the desk. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”
“Well.” My eyebrows drew together in a perplexed frown. “I’m still trying to figure out what that is.”
“What what is?”
“Love.”
She retracted the ice pack from my face, her fingers lingering against my skin with an unintentional caress, which made me wheel my chair in closer against my own will, as if she had a magnetic pull on me that I was unable to resist. The warmth of her touch ignited a longing in me that inexplicably made me want to grow closer and closer to her.
I’d be willing to endure endless black eyes just for the short-lived touches of her hand against my skin.
Her lips parted ever so slightly, yet the silence remained unbroken by words. I was at a loss for words, too. All I could do was gaze into her deep-brown eyes, lost in visions of what might’ve been if she wasn’t a married woman and what touches I could’ve given to her if she wasn’t another man’s.