Better to Give by K. K. Weil

Author:K. K. Weil [Weil, K. K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Holiday, Contemporary, Women's Fiction, Scarred Hero/Heroine
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

James

I was so damn stiff. My couch was a terrible substitute for a bed. I rolled my head. My neck creaked and my back cracked like a twig. I felt eighty instead of thirty. The blasting TV and cackling kids didn’t help either. Could they never sleep past seven a.m.?

I sat up and pressed my temples. How much had we drunk last night? Three bottles stood on the table, one of which had some wine left. Still, that was over a full bottle for each of us. It’s a wonder I had the wherewithal to make it back to the couch. I didn’t have a choice. There was no fucking way I was giving Donna any excuse to take me back to court. Having my kids wake up and find me in bed with a woman they’d only met a few times would be just that reason.

Three bottles. Damn. Getting her drunk was not my intention. We just kept talking and the more we talked, the more we drank. Quick as a bolt of lightning, half the night was gone, and so was all the wine I had in my apartment.

Dinner that night was supposed to be a test. I didn’t give a shit how hot she was. I would not get in another situation with a woman who ran hot and cold, just to find out she was bitter to the bone. Talking to Jenna, though, it was clear there was a lot more to her. Now I understood why she put on the facade. She was protecting herself.

I was doing well. I restrained when she invited me to join her. I didn’t want her to have any cause to revert back to nasty. Then I lost my resolve.

While it had been a mind-blowing night, now I’d have to stand by my decision. If she came out defensive and standoffish, I had to be done. After witnessing a different side of her, and after getting a taste…or three…of how incredible we could be together, done sounded like a lousy option.

My bedroom door opened and she stood in the doorway, fully dressed, with her hair pulled back into that tight ponytail. This did not seem promising.

She did a quick evaluation of the kids watching TV before speaking. “Can I talk to you a minute?” She motioned for me to go into the bedroom.

She was going to lecture me about how last night was a mistake; we were drunk, blah blah. After the headway I thought we made, I wasn’t up for it. In fact, the muscles in my shoulders tensed before she said a word.

I walked past her into the bedroom. The bed was already made and the sweats she slept in were folded at the foot of the bed. My thin, white shirt lay on top. I gave a silent laugh at the shirt. I knew it was so old it was practically see-through when I gave it to her. That part was intentional. What I didn’t know was that one of the kids must have accidentally shrunk it when they did the laundry.

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