Winter's Mourn (Winter Black Series Book 1) by Mary Stone

Author:Mary Stone [Stone, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-08T22:00:00+00:00

18

Tom Benton woke up with a headache. It was nothing new. He knew he’d been drinking too much lately, but dammit, a man had the right to unwind at night when he got home from work. Especially a man with as many worries as Tom had.

He rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Sam up. Her back was to him, her long hair spread out on the pillow, tangled like it usually was in the morning. Sam wasn’t a restful sleeper. She tossed and turned and gritted her teeth. He knew she was stressed, and almost getting let go from her restaurant job hadn’t helped matters any. Money was tight and what had turned into an endless battle of getting pregnant—and staying that way—was taking a toll on both of them.

This time would be different, she’d promised him. The lady doctor Sam went to had told them that Sam likely wouldn’t be able to carry a baby to term. She didn’t have a strong enough uterus for it, or something. But Sam was almost painfully hopeful, promising that she just knew it would work out this time. They’d have the perfect baby boy, just like they’d always wanted, in about eight months. He couldn’t bring himself to get his hopes up, and he wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable heartbreak.

Nothing was going his way lately. He felt like he was wearing a shit magnet around his neck. Deep in his heart, he knew this pregnancy wouldn’t be any different.

His mood already sour, Tom left the bedroom and padded down the hall, barefoot and only in his jockey shorts. In the bathroom mirror, his face looked puffy, his eyes bloodshot as hell. He took a piss and then brushed his teeth. He wasn’t looking forward to work this morning. He thought about showering, but after a quick sniff at his pits, decided he’d be fine for another day. It just seemed like too much effort.

He pulled on the uniform pants Sam had hung up for him like she always did and swiped on some deodorant. Dragging a white t-shirt over his head, he was about to reach for his polyester shirt when the doorbell rang.

Shit. It was only six-thirty.

He hurried out before whoever it was could ring again and almost groaned when he saw two shapes on the other side of the wavy, clouded glass of the front door. It was Winter Black and her meathead sidekick. Anger bubbled as he yanked open the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The meathead gave him a friendly smile, and Tom wanted to slug him.

“Morning, Officer Benton. We were wondering if you had a moment to speak with us. Sorry about the early hour.” The asshole grinned, showing a toothpaste-commercial smile, looking as harmless as a Jehovah’s Witness. “Just wanted to catch you before you left for work.”

Winter watched him steadily with those spooky blue eyes, unsmiling.

“No, I don’t have time to talk. You can catch me at the station.”

“Well…” the meathead drawled.

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