It continued like that until he finally set the last section down and waited for me to finish.
Since it wasn’t my town, I skimmed a few of the articles, but ultimately put it down a whole lot faster than I would have if we were home. I did stop to scan the “ask the editor” section, smiling when I saw a letter about how there needed to be more news articles and fewer articles about unimportant “shit” that nobody cared about.
“Why does that letter sound like something one of your boys would write?” I teased.
One of his “boys” referenced the men in his motorcycle club, The Dixie Wardens.
My eyes lifted to find Porter staring at me, studying my face.
“Probably because it was,” he laughed. “Dixie’s tired of reading about fake news. He wants the cold hard facts, and the paper is trying to cater—like it should—to both political parties.”
I hummed in assent as I folded the paper back the way it’d been and laid it in the finished stack.
“You had a lot to say last night,” he murmured. “Do you still feel like that in the light of day?”
I felt my heart start to pound. “Feel like what?”
He grinned slightly. “Do you remember talking to me while Wade and Minnie got the coffee and cookies last night?”
I did. Bits and pieces anyway.
“Some,” I admitted.
“You remember mentioning that you were scared?”
I blinked. “No.”
“You said you were scared of what life was going to bring now that you were once again married to Wade,” he reminded me. “You also said that his job scared the crap out of you. That you wanted his babies and couldn’t give them to him, and also that you were fairly sure that once he knew the real you, he’d leave.”
I pressed the heels of my hands to my face as I groaned. “I’m not sure any of that was true.”
Lies. All lies.
“Sometimes the things people say when they’re drunk, and their brain isn’t able to control their filter, are the truest things that have ever been said,” he explained. “And I do think you’re scared. You have a right to be scared. But I also think that it was the dumbest thing in the world for Wade to allow you to leave and not fight the divorce.”
I dropped my hands and stared at him. “Wade let me go because he was forced to.”
He snorted in derision. “That’s the biggest load of crap ever. He wanted you more than he wanted his next breath. He feels for you like I feel for Minnie. And let me tell you something. I once gave Minnie up because I thought it’d be better for her to be sad than to be married to a fella like me who would only bring her down. But then we were both miserable as hell. What is the point of staying apart when you’re happier together?”
I pressed my lips tightly shut.
“Don’t think I don’t know that you still love him,” Porter said. “Y’all have tried the being apart thing—and for what? You are both miserable. Y’all both still love each other. The things that you fought over are in the past. You need him just like he needs you. He may need you more now than he ever needed you before, though.”
His leg.
He was talking about the possibility of Wade losing his leg.
“He’s never needed me, Porter,” I explained softly. “It was always me doing the leaning, not the other way around.”
“And that, girl, is where you’re wrong.” He stood up and grabbed for his coffee cup. “My boy’s needed you since the moment that you came on to his radar, and you just didn’t know it.”
With that, he walked inside, leaving me alone to my own thoughts.
I shivered as a particularly sharp breeze rolled over the open field that Porter and Minnie built their house on.
Standing myself, I walked back inside the pool house and closed the door—a little too hard.
Wade lifted his sleepy face from the pillow the moment I shut it, and he frowned. “You okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay.
I walked over to the bed and stared at Wade’s sleep-creased face and wondered if I was making the worst mistake of my life.
“Landry?”
I put a knee on the bed, then leaned over his big body, staring at him long and hard until I finally came to a decision.
“When we get home, I need you to give me a couple of days to think,” I said softly.
His eyebrows lowered as if he wasn’t happy with that possibility.
“And right now?” he growled.
“It’s impossible to think with you around,” I told him honestly.
He chuckled softly.
Then I gasped when he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me down roughly.
“Then right now you won’t mind if I do this?”
No. I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.
My mouth opened, and I marveled in the fact that he was able to find what he was aiming for without consciously trying.
“How’d you know I didn’t have panties on?” I asked roughly.
He’d filled me in one thrust.
Everything inside of me was tight in anticipation.
My pussy was filled to bursting, things stretched that should’ve been loosened beforehand, and honestly, it felt like being on the verge of pain.
Yet…I wanted it.
I needed it.
He skimmed his hands up the t-shirt, stopping when he found my breasts.
I sat up and let him play with my nipples, sitting still on his cock.
Likely he was trying to give me time to adjust, and normally I’d be thankful.
This time, I wanted it to hurt.
“Wade, I need…” I rasped.
And suddenly I found myself on my back with Wade’s big body hovering over mine.
My hands went to his shoulder blades as he roughly yanked my legs up, practically shoving them to my chest.
Then he was powering into me, taking me so hard and fast that I couldn’t think.
“God, baby,” he growled, his mouth slanting over mine to take me with a rough, soul-searing kiss. “You take my breath away.”
I refrained from saying my usual “that’s because you’re doing some high-quality cardio” quick-witted reply when he used to take me this hard and fast. But my brain was being scrambled, and I couldn’t open my mouth to breathe, let alone supply a coherent response.
My neck stretched as I ground my head into the bed.
The pillows around my face were suffocating me, but I was willing to trade a little brain damage for the orgasm that I could feel was about to overtake me.
The only thing that could be heard in the room was our heavy breathing and the slap-slap of his pelvis connecting with mine.
His balls were also slapping against my asshole with each rough thrust, and it was rendering me unable to think.
Hell, everything about the man had always done that.
His smile.
His penis.
His hands.
Everything about him was freaking perfect.
I was so lost in chasing after my orgasm that I didn’t anticipate the bite to my breast until he was already sinking those teeth of his into my skin.
The sharp pain was apparently what I needed because the next second I was coming so hard that the house could’ve caught fire around us and I wouldn’t have cared.
My pussy pulsed and squeezed, causing him to curse harshly against my breast.
My fingernails dug into his shoulders.
My legs tightened around him to the point where I was sure I’d have bruises from where his hip bones dug into me.
And then there was the way his cock started to jerk inside of me, filling me with so much cum that I could feel it leaking out the sides.
Then he stilled, and I flopped my limbs uselessly to the bed as I laid there and tried to catch my breath.
He moved the pillows from my face, allowing me to have blessed fresh air, and grinned down at me
.
I swallowed hard, loving that face more than I loved anything in the world.
“I’ll give you two days,” he growled. “Nothing more…now go into the bathroom and get me a pain pill. I think my leg is about to fall off.”
Chapter 11
Sorry I’m late, I got here as soon as I wanted to.
-Coffee Cup
Landry
I looked down at the retired military working dog and wondered if there was anything that I could do that hadn’t already been tried with him.
He’d come to me as a last resort, and I honestly hated that for him.
He looked so sweet with his graying face and his soulful brown eyes.
But then you tried to get close to him, and things went south.
Like right now, I was staring at his paws, wondering if I could get close to him, and realized rather quickly after scooting nearer that it wasn’t going to happen.
This situation needed a man’s touch.
I needed my husband.
My not-so-ex-husband had been relegated to desk duty today after his doctor appointment where he’d obviously got news he did not enjoy hearing. I’d found this out from Bayou, who again met me for lunch on our park bench because it was going on day three and he’d not once contacted me like I’d expected him to.
I looked down at my almost-healed hand and wondered if what I was about to do was the best decision and realized that it probably was the stupidest one I could make.
But, unable to stop myself, I rolled the dog’s cage back up into my van and situated it. Once I had it nicely tucked in, I firmly swung the van’s door closed and then circled around the van.
Once I was inside, I started the van up and took one more glance over my shoulder at the dog in the cage.
He snarled at me.
I shivered and started the van.
I would not give up on this dog, just like I would not give up on my husband.
There were a lot of things that I’d realized over the last seventy-two hours, and all of them centered around the fact that I only had one life.
I needed to live it to the best of my ability.
And that included taking him up on his offer and trying to make something of our relationship.
Starting the van, I merged onto the road and gasped when a black motorcycle darted out in front of me, causing me to nearly hit it.
“Shit!” I gasped.
I hadn’t seen it at all.
“I’m so sorry!” I yelled at the man.
The man pulled over and got off the bike so fast that my heart started to palpitate.
He stalked toward my van, and I looked into the man’s angry eyes and wondered what he was going to do.
My hands clenched on the steering wheel, and I started to shake as the biker stopped in front of the hood of my van.
He slammed his hand down hard on the hood, and I jumped.
His angry gray eyes met mine, and I bit my lip. “I’m sorry,” I said to him again.
He flipped me off and walked away.
Dropping my head to my steering wheel, I counted to ten.
At number five, the motorcycle roared off.
At number seven, someone honked behind me.
I opened my eyes at number ten, looked around—this time much more thoroughly—and started out once again. But as I drove, I became angry.
I’d looked for him.
Hell, it was nearly impossible not to see motorcyclists since my husband was one of them. I counted them. I instinctively listened for them. It was unthinkable for me to do what I’d just done today, and the only reason that I could find that I hadn’t seen that particular one was that he was going extremely fast in a residential neighborhood.
I might’ve tuned out the roar of his engine but when something comes up on you that freakin’ fast, it’s almost impossible to prepare.
I’d worked myself into a bad mood by the time I pulled up to Wade’s place.
It was a small two-bedroom duplex in the middle of town, and I’d hated it the moment he got it because of the girl he shared the other half of the duplex with.
And, to make matters worse, the girl that used the other half of the duplex was outside talking to my man—and the man that I’d nearly smashed with my van—as I pulled up.
Son of a bitch.
I contemplated leaving but chose not to, instead trying to ignore them all while I went to the cage at the back of the van.
Ignoring the discussion going on in the front yard, I opened the van’s door and felt my heart skip a few beats at the snarls coming from the cage.
The dog was snarling and snapping at the cage now, and I just…lost it.
Sitting down, my ass on the curb, I dropped my head into my hands and started to cry.
Crying was actually not a good word for it. Sobbing was more to my liking.
After three days of not coming up with anything other than I missed my husband, and then having to deal with the dog that seriously hated me, I couldn’t help it.
The dog’s situation was dismal.
He was seven years old, and in addition to the German Shepherd’s age, he’d been a military working dog that had retired from service. The reason he’d retired was due to an attack that had left him maimed—and without a back leg.
To make matters worse, his handler—as well as the handler’s entire unit—had died in the same explosion, and there was nobody that was willing to work with the dog.
He’d been scheduled for euthanasia in freakin’ Oklahoma due to the inability to work with the severely traumatized dog when I’d heard about him through my Facebook page. I’d gone to get him this morning
There was another group that was trying to adopt him so they could help him, but the dog wasn’t responding well to their handling. I was more qualified and hoped that I would be able to break through to this dedicated service dog.
He was in bad shape.
Due to nobody being able to get close to him, the dog had suffered. He’d been in a cage since he’d woken up legless, he was volatile and snapped at anyone who got close enough and was honestly beyond even my reach.
But I just couldn’t stand for him to be put to sleep without at least trying.
Which led me to now.
Sitting on my ass.
With the dog snapping and snarling at the cage, and my ex-husband talking to two people that I’d rather not talk to right then.
I heard someone’s shoe scuff the surface of the concrete right behind me, and suddenly I was up and in Wade’s arms.
I buried my face into his neck and sobbed.
I sobbed because of the dog.
I sobbed because of the news that I’d heard from Bayou about Wade’s leg.
I sobbed because I’d almost killed someone without meaning to.
I sobbed because I’d been wrong.
I should’ve never left Wade.
I’d ruined our lives all because I was too stupid to realize that Wade wouldn’t have been upset with me over refusing to donate bone marrow to my sister. He would’ve been disappointed, but he wouldn’t have hated me like I’d thought he would.
And the fight we’d had the morning of my sister’s impending doom about children could’ve been avoided too had I just opened up and spoken with him.
My breath hitched, and Wade ran his hand up my back soothingly, staying bent at an awkward angle as I practically hung off of his neck. He had to be uncomfortable, but not once did he shift his body or complain. He stayed holding me tightly.
Eventually my sobbing lessened, and I loosened my hold on his neck.
When I did, he stood up straighter but didn’t let me go.
I opened my eyes from where I’d had my face buried in his neck and turned my head, blinking at the steel gray eyes of the man that’d slammed his hand down on the hood of my van earlier.
He didn’t look pissed anymore.
In fact, he
looked…tortured.
“You okay, honey?” Wade asked, pushing me away slightly so that he could see my face.
I gave him what he wanted and looked up into his eyes, smiling sadly at him. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I’ve had a really bad day.”
The dog’s snarls hadn’t abated, and in fact, had ramped up to terrifying as more people had come closer to his cage.
“What’s this one’s story?” Wade asked, dropping a kiss on my mouth.
I returned the kiss for the few seconds that he gave me to enjoy it, and then turned in his arms to stare at the snarling dog.
The man at our side came closer, his eyes taking in the dog right along with us.
I looked over at him. “I’m sorry for nearly killing you.”
He looked at me and grinned. “I didn’t realize you had a dog in the back of your van making this kind of racket, or I would’ve understood.”
I swallowed hard.
“Baby, this is Hoax. He’s the one we told you about that’s Delta. He’s here for a few weeks on leave in between missions,” Wade explained. “And you almost killed him?”
“I was distracted,” I admitted, gesturing toward the dog. “And I pulled out without clearly checking my mirrors, though, just sayin’, you were driving really fast in a residential neighborhood. You probably should stop doing that.”
Hoax snorted. “Yeah, my cousin sent me a text saying the same damn thing as I was leaving today.”
This Hoax character was nice…now.
Then, when I’d almost killed him with my vehicle, he’d been a hell of a lot scarier.
He looked a lot like Wade—at least in build. But he had pale skin and gray eyes compared to Wade’s lightly sun-bronzed skin and green eyes. Hoax also had a really bushy beard whereas Wade’s was trimmed due to the regulations he had to abide by to be a Bear Bottom Police Officer.
Honestly, the more I looked at Hoax, the more freaked out I got.
He was a seriously scary individual—even if he wasn’t pissed off anymore that I’d nearly killed him.
“Anyway, I’m sorry I was such a shit,” he said apologetically. “I was in a recent motorcycle wreck and it’s put me in a perpetually bad mood.”
He held up the arm that was farthest away from me, and it was then that I saw he had a black cast underneath his leather jacket.
How About No Page 11