One More Night (Vegas After Dark #3) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: Vegas After Dark Series by Tory Baker

Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)

Mace Ayala once had everything and let it slip through his fingers. It’s time to get back what belongs to him.

Mace has always loved Tyra. He let her slip away and has been forced to the sidelines. Each day that passes kills him and when he discovers Tyra is dating, he refuses to let another day go by.

He’s going to get his woman and his little boy back under his roof and he won’t take no for an answer.

Tyra may love Mace, but he’s going to have to prove that he’s changed and willing to put his family first this time. He wants more time to prove their love is forever. She’s going to give it to him—but he’ll have to earn his way back into her life.

It’s a good thing Mace is definitely up to the challenge.

Tory has more Vegas nights to heat up your kindle. This second chance, billionaire romance has everything you’ve come to expect with her books and more. So charge your kindle and get ready to get lost in an alpha romance that will leave you swooning.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



One Year Earlier

“I’m doing the right thing, right?” I ask my best friend, Celeste, for probably the eighteenth time since this date has been set. Von, my four-year-old, is currently at daycare. His father, well, that’s the entire reasoning as why I’m questioning that this is what I should do.

“Tyra, only you can answer that question. I hate like hell you’re going through this and that you won’t even let me come to at least hold your hand.” That’s Celeste for you—there no matter what, even if I’m second-guessing myself.

“I tried, God, I tried my hardest. It’s not like Mace would even go to counseling.” I’m defeated—there’s no two ways around it—emotionally and mentally at my wit’s end. That’s why, a month ago, I tossed in the towel after two years of basically being a roommate to my own husband and called an attorney. There was only so much begging, pleading, and crying a person could do without losing their own self-worth.

“You did, Tyra, don’t doubt that. Right now, it’s about you and Von. That’s all it can be about.” More people need a friend like Celeste. Sure, my parents are amazing, and I’m talking beyond terrific, taking Von when I’ve had an appointment that wouldn’t work around his daycare schedule, helping me move out of what was our home and into the smaller two-bedroom condo we moved into a week or so ago, finally getting situated, albeit sparse because there wasn’t a single thing I was adamant about taking. A fresh start was what I wanted, even if that meant hitting thrift stores and garage sales, repurposing furniture in the form of sanding, staining, or painting. That’s what I did, well, minus Von’s bed. That came brand new. Safety was a concern, and not having something rigged in case my rambunctious toddler decided to be a monkey and jump on the bed.

“I know it’s the only thing to do, but the gaping hole in my chest is making me think otherwise.” I never wanted to be that statistic, the sixty percent of married couples ending in divorce, and maybe that is partly my fault. I wanted what my parents have, to be totally and completely in love with my husband the way my mom is with my dad. The dancing in the kitchen while cooking, Von coming between us or making gross noises because we’re kissing, that’s all gone now, and I’m not sure I’ll ever have it again.

“That’s it. I’m meeting you at the courthouse. No friend of mine is doing this alone. Then we’ll go out afterwards, and you can get rip-roaring drunk. In fact, stay where you are. I’ll swing by and pick you up.” I hear the keys rattling in the background and know Celeste won’t take no for an answer unless I buck the fuck up.

“Celeste, I’m okay, really. I’ll call you when the papers are signed, but I think this is something that needs to be done alone. If you could call my parents and ask if they’ll take Von after daycare so we can grab a drink, that would be awesome.” I’m attempting to put on a fake game of pretending to be okay when inside the walls are closing in.

“Consider it done. I still don’t like that you’re doing this without me. Is Mace going to be there?” Celeste asks the million-dollar question. I’m sitting in my car after arriving at the courthouse early, wanting to be out of the house and away from myself even though that’s not entirely possible.

“He waived that right. Mace is a complete and total stranger to me. I’m just surprised he still sees Von at this stage in the game.” Our beautiful boy—dark hair, tanned skin, lips the exact same color of his father’s, and the only thing he seems to get from me is our matching green eyes. There are times I look at him and see Mace staring back at me when he was little, like in the picture his mom shared with me, and I see the beauty in everything his father gave him, down to the dimple on the right side of his cheek. Other times, my heart aches so badly knowing that what Mace and I had is completely obliterated.

“Shit, maybe this will give him a swift kick in the ass. After you’re done with the heavy stuff, text me. I’ll pick you up from your place, and don’t worry; Von will get taken care of, too. This afternoon, it’s time for you to lick your wounds while licking the salt off your hand before sucking down as much tequila as it takes to get you through the day, okay?”

“Just so long as you’ll hold my hair when the time comes.” Tequila doesn’t make my clothes fall off like the country song says it does to certain people. What it does to me is give me a killer hangover in the form of throwing up, sleeping on the bathroom floor at one point, and waking up with a headache from hell. Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment, and Celeste will be there right along with me.