Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
My heart raced.
Beau hadn’t been surprised by the heat, but his brothers hadn’t known exactly how it worked. Danny had mentioned Beau fucking things up twice. The breadcrumbs had been there, but I hadn’t even known to look for them.
If I was honest with myself, I hadn’t wanted to see them.
Beau had shown me who he was from the beginning, but I’d refused to see it. I’d been so sure that it was fate for us to meet. I’d been so overwhelmed with the idea that, for once, I was being given something special. Every decision I’d made since he showed up at my door had been in line with that belief.
My hands had been slapped so many times when I reached for things that I hadn’t even questioned it when I’d been given something without asking for it.
I’d been too grateful for something of my own. Something that was irrevocably mine.
The thread connecting me to Beau felt like the curse he’d described as I climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. My hair was a rat’s nest, and the sight of it made my hands shake as I wrestled it into a tight bun at the base of my neck.
I wasn’t angry enough to ignore the times that Beau was sweet. It was impossible to forget all the things I liked about him, which made the weight on my chest even heavier. It was impossible to hate the person who’d laughed until he had tears in his eyes when I dropped my ice cream cone on the boardwalk two minutes after he bought it. How was I supposed to forget the way he’d laid in bed beside me, rubbing my back and telling me about the little brother he’d lost?
I couldn’t ignore the way he looked at me like I was the center of everything.
My stomach cramped as I braced my hands on the bathroom counter.
Jesus. I’d known him a week. It shouldn’t hurt this bad.
“Are you all right?” Beau asked, swinging the bathroom door open slowly.
He was fully dressed, and he looked worse than I felt.
“Are you ready to talk?” I asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“No.”
I nodded and looked away. I wasn’t even surprised.
“But, I will,” he added. “Come out when you’re ready.”
I took my time getting dressed. Every part of me felt so incredibly exposed already that I needed the armor of clothing.
He must’ve thought I was such an idiot when I’d so earnestly told Rena that I finally had something that was just mine.
Part of me wondered if I really wanted to know about the woman who’d come before me or if I’d be opening a can of worms that I could never close again, but I also knew that not knowing would eat me alive. I followed him out of the bathroom.
“What would you like to know?” Beau asked as I sat across from him at the small kitchen table. His hands were clasped, and his entire body was stiff.
“Everything,” I replied quietly, bracing.
“Her name was Millicent Davies.” His voice was flat, almost detached.
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
“When did she die?”
“Twenty-eight years ago,” he said roughly.
I frowned as he leaned back in his seat and ran his hand through his hair.
“I thought mates were immortal?”
“Human women are not,” he snapped, getting to his feet.
I felt like I was missing something, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.
“You’re not making sense.” I watched as he paced across the room.
“She was married,” he said finally, coming to a stop.
“Oh.”
“She loved him,” he ground out.
“But—” How was that possible? Why was that possible?
A knock on the bedroom door had Beau cursing as he crossed the room.
“What?” he barked, throwing it open.
“Oh, Bjorn,” Erik said softly, taking him in. He glanced over at me. “We have company.”
“We’re in the middle of something,” Beau replied. “We’ll be down later.”
“Mordecai and Helen will wait,” Erik said with a nod.
“You called him?”
“I thought it best.”
“You overstepped.”
Erik nodded again as Beau shut the door in his face.
“Isn’t Mordecai your dad’s best friend?” I asked, watching him closely as he came back into the kitchen area.
“Is that what you want to talk about?”
“No.”
“What else would you like to know?”
“How do you have two mates?” I blurted, my face flaming. I felt like such an idiot. Curling my hands into fists in my lap, I dug my fingernails into my palms.
“I have one mate,” Beau corrected. He ran his hands through his hair again.
I’d never seen him so jittery. It was as if he couldn’t stand still for even a moment. The heat beneath my skin flared. I ignored it.
“But you said Millicent was your mate.”
“Millie,” he corrected. “She went by Millie.”
It felt as if we were talking in circles and not getting anywhere, but the longer the conversation lasted, the more panicked I got.