is Monday. You’re going as quickly as possible. It won’t be final until the sixty-first day. There is nothing I can do. Are you getting married again? Because honestly, that’s the only time I’ve seen people argue to have the process sped up. It still doesn’t happen, Landry.”
“I’m not,” I grumble.
I haven’t even slept with Tennessee, but something tells me that she would feel massive guilt if we did more than what happened yesterday in my penthouse.
“I just want it done. If I know Susan, I know that without a doubt her demands are going to increase as we get closer. She’ll try to get everything she possibly can out of me. I just don’t want this drug out.”
Bash clears his throat. “I understand, but this is just something you’re going to have to get through. And my advice stands, don’t mix yourself up with anyone until day sixty-one.”
Thanking him, I end the call just as the hostess appears with two bags in her hands. “Landry?” she asks.
Smiling, I reach for the handles. “Thank you,” I offer.
Turning away, I make my way toward the car. I did something wrong, and I should feel bad about it, but I don’t. Tennessee wanted to wait to possibly start anything until the divorce is final, but I don’t think that I can do that.
I can’t not touch her. I’ve tasted her and she’s addictive. She’s sweet and soft. Kind and gentle. I need her in my life and in my bed.
There’s something about her, something that I can’t ignore. Something that I don’t want to distance myself from. It’s her, just her, and I know that I should heed her wishes, but I just fucking can’t.
Finding a parking spot on her street, I gather the bags of food and close the door. Jogging toward the front door of her building, I look around. It’s a decent neighborhood, not the best. It has a locked main entrance, so that’s safe. But when the man in front of me holds the door open for me, I let out a noise.
Maybe it’s not quite as safe as it appears? Maybe I’m just being really fucking overprotective. Climbing the stairs, I make my way toward her floor, then I step in front of her door. Clearing my throat, I knock on the door.
It doesn’t take long, only a few moments when it opens. Nobody stands across from me, that is until I tip my head down. Holden is standing there, still in his pajamas. I blink down at him, then lift my head to see if I can find Tennessee behind him, but she’s not there.
“Holden, where’s your mama?” I ask.
He tips his little head back, his big green eyes finding mine. “Mama sick.”
TENNESSEE
I hear Holden’s voice and tell him that I’ll be there in a minute. That is, if I can get out of bed. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. My head is killing me. It’s not a sore throat and runny nose like I thought it may possibly be yesterday. It’s not a cold coming on. No, I have a migraine. A debilitating migraine.
I close my eyes for just a moment and I’m awoken by a voice. A deep voice. A man’s voice. My entire body freezes in panic for just a moment. My eyes open and I sit straight up with a whimper.
Holden says something that I can’t make out, and I let out a sigh of relief that he’s in there. But then that man’s voice rings again and adrenaline flows through me. Standing up, I push the crippling migraine to the side and force my body to move.
I’m only wearing a pair of panties and a tank top, but it doesn’t matter. Nobody is supposed to be here and I’m terrified that something bad is going to happen to Holden.
When I walk past my bedroom door, I freeze at the sight in front of me. It’s Landry, sitting at my small dining room table, Holden right next to him. My gaze flicks to Holden, he’s got pancakes in front of him. Then my eyes shift back to Landry’s.
He’s no longer sitting, instead, he hurries toward me, and just as he reaches me, my knees give out. He doesn’t hesitate even a moment. Instead, he carries me to my bedroom and puts me back in bed.
“What’s wrong. Holden said you were sick? I was feeding him, then getting ready to come in and check on you.”