All Grown Up Read online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
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I walked over to Ford and raised my hands to touch his chest, but he took a step back, out of my reach. “The boy next door? I’m fixing the pipes?”

“I’m sorry. I was just caught off guard, and…I just don’t want him in my business.”

Ford’s jaw may have been rigid with anger, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. “Sure.”

“Ford…”

He shook his head. “I gotta go.”

“Wait…I didn’t…”

The door slammed shut a second time, and I stood alone in the living room, wrapped in a blanket and still wearing Ford’s shirt.

God, I really fucked up.

***

“You want to grab some lunch at the Lobster Roll?”

“No.”

My ex-husband seemed genuinely confused. His forehead wrinkled. “Why not?”

“Because I have things to do.”

I’d been sitting on the back deck the last twenty minutes. The contractor had come and gone, and Ryan had insisted on checking the kitchen sink to make sure the leak was fixed properly, even though I’d told him it worked fine.

“You don’t look busy to me.”

I glared at him. “How do you think Kaylee will feel about you having lunch with your ex-wife?”

“It’s Kayla. And it’s over. She went to India to study yoga for a few weeks and decided to stay. Met some rich tech guy.”

“What a shame.”

I looked up and saw a different man than I used to see. Ryan had aged and gained some weight. His hairline had started to recede, and he’d grown his hair out in a failed attempt at modern hair that wasn’t thinning. Two years ago, I’d never thought the day would come when I’d look at him and not miss our life together. When he’d walked out on me, I’d thought my life was over.

But it wasn’t. Turns out it was finally getting started. It had taken me a long time to get here, but I was over Ryan—like, so damn over.

“Come on…you love those lobster rolls. It’ll be like old times.”

“I do love them. But I can go enjoy them on my own…and be in better company.”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine. Whatever. I should get on the road before rush-hour traffic anyway. I’ll be in touch about scheduling the construction.”

I didn’t bother to walk him out. He’d helped himself in. He could figure out the way back all on his own. Once I heard his car start and pull out of the driveway, I breathed a bit easier. Though only one problem was solved.

I still hadn’t heard from Ford. I’d sent a text earlier, which showed as read, but he’d never responded. I checked my phone for the tenth time, even though it hadn’t vibrated. The last text was the one I’d sent him.

Valentina: I had a great time last night, and I’m sorry about what happened this morning. Let me know what train I should pick you up on later.

I sighed. He had gone into the city for a meeting, so that could be the reason he hadn’t responded yet. Though, deep down, I knew that wasn’t it.

Hours later, it became harder to make up an excuse and tell myself everything was fine. So I decided to send another text.

Valentina: Hey. Just checking in. Do you know what train you’ll be on yet?

A few minutes later my phone buzzed.

Ford: Change of plans. Not coming back tonight.

Valentina: Oh. Okay. Everything go okay with your meeting?

Ford: Fine.

Valentina: See you Sunday, then?

Ford: Sure.

I knew we needed to talk in person, but I had to at least attempt to apologize again.

Valentina: I’m really sorry about this morning. Ryan showing up threw me for a loop.

Ford: No problem. No reason to tell your ex about your casual fucks.

He was hurt and lashing out. Taking the bait and arguing over text would only make things worse. So I tried not to.

Valentina: Dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook something for us.

Ford: Don’t go to any trouble. Dinner isn’t necessary. Maybe you could pencil me in to come over about eight to fuck you?

I deserve that.

Valentina: Eight sounds good. See you Sunday. I can’t wait.

Not surprisingly, my sentiment wasn’t returned.

Chapter 20

* * *

Ford

“Remember that dream I had about all the purple flowers at a funeral last week?”

Mrs. Peabody didn’t even say hello. She just started talking when I answered the phone.

“Hey, Mrs. P.” I tossed my pen on my desk and leaned back into my chair. “Yeah, of course I remember. You had a strong premonition during the day that someone was going to die, and then you dreamed of a funeral with tons of purple flowers.”

“I threw up twice that day. But that might’ve been because of the tuna casserole this hellhole serves for lunch on Tuesdays. I despise Tuesdays. Who the heck thought it was a good idea to put mayonnaise in the oven anyway?”

I laughed for the first time today. “So what about the funeral? Did someone actually die?”


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