“It’s stupid,” Ellie mutters, crossing her arms protectively over her heart. “That’s why I didn’t wanna say it.”
“It’s not stupid,” I assure her, my stomach twisting up into a huge knot. I don’t miss the pained look on Nya’s speechless face as I release my hold on her and our daughter lunges herself into my arms, sniffling into the crook of my neck.
“N-not all families look the same, Ellie,” my ex explains while rubbing circles on her back. “We’re still a family even if we don’t all live in the same house.”
My daughter stiffens at her words, schooling her features. “I know, Mom, but it’s not the same.”
Nya has worked really hard to make sure Ellie has been raised with two parents. Her guilt over being the one to initiate our divorce has always eaten at her. As hard as it is to be around Nya. To want her and never be able to act on it. To sit at the same fucking table with her and now her new boyfriend, Ryder. I’m here every holiday. Every birthday. Hell, every Sunday for family dinner. It’s as close to a two-parent home as we could give her without actually being together, but Ellie’s right, it’s not the same thing. Nowhere near it.
“Sometimes relationships don’t work out, baby. Some people just aren’t meant to be—” at that I tune her out, because I will never believe Nya and I aren’t meant to be together. I wouldn’t still want her so badly after all these years if that were the case.
“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Nya asks as she slinks back into the room after tucking Ellie into bed, looking positively defeated. She swiftly takes the procured glass of wine from Hannah before plopping into the chair across from mine for what has become a routine Sunday night card game.
“Sure.” I nod before taking a pull from my beer. It’s hard to keep the mood light, but the last thing this woman needs is me acting like a petulant child. She’s well aware of how much I still want to be with her. From the day we split, I’ve made that no secret.
“I mean,” she adds, fanning her cards in front of her face and arranging them in her hand. “We’re doing the right thing…right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Hannah agrees, while I practically bite my tongue off. “You’re great parents. Don’t ever doubt that. Tons of kids grow up in broken homes these days and most of them turn out just fine.”
Ouch. Probably not the best way to support her endorsement. Internally I cringe as Nya balks at her words.
Drinks are flowing more heavily tonight than usual as we play a few rounds of poker. I’m thankful for the empty chair that Ryder’s occupied the past couple of months when Nya makes me an offer I’d be a fool to refuse.
“What if we gave it another shot?” she asks, almost inaudibly. Her tan cheeks are flushed crimson. “That’d be stupid, right?” She glances from Hannah to me, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“Why not?” I interrupt when she starts backpedaling.
“You could always try it out for say…a year.” Hannah pushes her unruly cropped blonde curls behind her ears, and her emerald eyes glow with excitement. She’s always been a fan of Nya and me. “And if you don’t want to be married when the time’s up, you call it quits.”
Nya slinks out of her chair, pacing the kitchen. The room falls silent as we all await the verdict. “Six months,” she counters, looking to me for approval. Insufferable woman always has to have everything on her terms, but she’s finally handing me some terms I can work with.
“What?” Hannah shrieks. “Are you serious?” Bounding out of her chair, she rushes to wrap her arms around her best friend’s neck. “This is the best crazy idea you’ve ever had.”
“Right now,” I suggest, pushing back from the table, before she has the time to change her mind. I look over to Hannah, who’s practically bursting with excitement. “Call the sitter?”
She nods and immediately begins scrolling through her iPhone.
“Vegas?” Nya proposes with something suspiciously close to a twinkle in her eye.
“Vegas!”
Keep Reading! Get Take Two here.
PREVIEW OF POUR JUDGMENT
PROLOGUE
Rhett
“Oh, Rhett, yesss…”
I squeeze harder, lapping her nipple into a firm bud through her thin top. My cock stiffens as she grinds her hips to the tempo of the music, giving me a sexy as fuck lap dance. Suddenly I have this inexplicable urge to look up, letting Monica’s tit slip from my mouth. I feel smothered—like all the air has suddenly been pulled from the room.
Who is that?
“It’s fine, Nick—” She digs her heels into the floor. “No, I don’t want to meet—”
“Rhett.” My drummer, Nick, approaches, dragging the very reluctant blonde behind him by the arm. “I’d like to introduce you to my cousin, Korie Potter. Korie, this is Rhett.” He gives her a little shove, landing her on her feet, right in front of my bent knees.
My eyes peruse her sweet little body. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. There’s not an ounce of makeup on her face. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of emerald, and she has the most delectable little freckles dotting her cheekbones. She’s wearing a black Rolling Stones tee—slightly fitted, the collar ripped so it droops a little, exposing one shoulder. One creamy, slender, tantalizing shoulder. I clear my throat, reaching around the raven-haired beauty presently situated in my lap for Korie’s hand.
“I’m good,” she says, not reaching back, her face scrunched like she’s just gotten a whiff of something foul. “Just carry on with whatev—umm whoever you’re doing.” She whirls back on her cousin, eyes flaming. “I’m gonna go get some air.”
In her haste to get away, she trips over my foot and is sent hurtling face first to the floor. Like in the movies, the music stops and every pair of eyes in the room are on her.
“Oh, shit.” I slide Monica to the side. “Scuse me,” I rush out, blundering to my feet, the alcohol throwing off my balance as I hop around, trying to right my pants zipper before reaching her. “My fault,” I say, shoving the little douche aside who’s trying to help her up. “I’ve got it.”
He throws his hands in the air, backing away.
“Are you all right?” My fingers curl around her upper arm, and inexplicably my pulse begins to race.
Then, she turns toward me, and our eyes truly connect for the first time. Fireworks burst in my chest, and I can’t seem to locate my voice. The attraction is instantaneous.
Well, it is for me at least.
She visibly stiffens. “Get your hands off of me. I’m fine.”
“Just wanted to make sure you were oka—”
She shrugs out of my hold, popping to her feet and righting her clothes. “I said, I’m fine.” She glances around at the slew of eyes fixed on her, sneering at all the snooty females whispering, pointing their manicured nails, and giggling in their Louboutin shoes and designer cocktail dresses. What I found hot not even five minutes ago suddenly seems pretentious and well, boring. “You’re just making it worse,” she grits.