Page 61 of Bombshell (Whiskey Dolls 1)

Love you.

Maybe she’s just talking in her sleep, I tried to rationalize. Anything to keep my epic freak-out at bay.Maybe she’s dreaming you’re someone else, like her sister or something?

But the truth had been staring me in the face for a while now, and I’d taken to doing what my mom was so good at, what Frank excelled at: I buried my head in the sand and ignored the truth of what I saw in her expression every time she looked at me.

The woman’s poker face was so bad, she might as well have had hearts coming out of her eyes.

I ignored it because I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want what we had to end just because she had gone further than I was willing to go. I didn’t want what we had to end because, other than Eli, it was the first time in six years that I’d actually felt happiness. I hadn’t felt like this in longer than I could remember.

That’s because you’re in love with her too, asshole.

I stumbled backward at the thought, something in my chest squeezing so tight that every huff, every quick, desperate breath, felt like a thousand cuts.

No, no, no, no, no. That wasn’t supposed to happen. We were just enjoying each other, taking things a day at a time. There were no expectations, and there was absolutelynolove.

She stirred in the bed and a wave of panic set me moving. Heading out of the room and down the hall, I pushed my son’s door open and quietly made my way inside. He was sleeping peacefully, so peacefully that just watching him for a few minutes calmed that storm inside of me.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, looking down at my boy, at the most precious thing I’d ever have, but exhaustion finally won out, making my legs weak. I dragged myself back toward my bedroom, back toward the beauty sleeping in my bed.

Moving on autopilot, I stripped out of my suit and climbed in beside her. She rolled into me, without conscious thought, her body, like mine, already trained to seek out the other.

I wrapped her in my arms and held her tightly to me, knowing this might possibly be one of the last times I would have this with her.

Because when she found out I would never be able to return her love, that what I gave her now was absolutely all I had to give, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she’d leave me.

And as much as that thought hurt, I’d accept it, because she deserved a man who could give her everything.

It just couldn’t be me.

* * *

Marin

I woke with a start, the sunlight coming through the bedroom window shouldn’t be there. It should have still been dark outside.

I shifted in the bed, feeling Pierce’s arm around me like a steel band as I tried to turn and look at the clock beside the bed.

“Oh shit!” I hissed when I caught sight of the white digital numbers. “Pierce, wake up.” I put my hand to his shoulder and gave him a hard shake. “We slept in.”

He grumbled and muttered unintelligibly, so I gave him another shove. That woke him up. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We forgot to set the alarm. We slept in, it’s already a quarter past eight.”

He shot up to sitting in the bed, his panicked eyes shooting toward the bedroom door. “Oh, fuck.”

“We have to hurry,” I blurted, jumping out of the bed. I wasn’t sure how or when I’d gotten out of my jeans, but I found them on the bedroom floor and quickly started pulling them up my legs, jumping in place to get them up faster.

Thankfully I still had my shirt and bra from the day before on, because as soon as I got the button on my pants done, the door flew open, and I whipped around, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi.

“Daddy! Can we have—?” Eli stopped, taking me in, standing in the middle of his father’s room first thing in the morning. His gaze bounced like a ping-pong ball between me and the bed where Pierce was still sitting, the covers pulled up over his waist. “Did you and Mar-Mar have a sleepover?”

He sounded upset, like he was heartbroken that he didn’t get to be a part of it.

“No, sweetie,” I started, grasping at straws for something to say.

Finally, Pierce spoke. “Kind of, bud. She was asleep when I got home last night. It was really late, and I didn’t want her driving home when she was tired like that.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer for him, because his feet came unglued and he skipped the rest of the way to the bed, throwing himself on top of the covers and cuddling up to his dad.

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