Home > My Kind of Love (Finding Love #1)(13)

My Kind of Love (Finding Love #1)(13)
Author: Nikki Ash

He hangs up, and I wait for him to speak, unsure of what happened just now. Did he actually tell his ex-wife he loves her?

“Laura is pregnant,” he finally says. “A surprise, but a pleasant one. She and her fiancé are going to move the wedding up so they’re married before the baby comes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course.”

“And this is Laura… your ex-wife?”

“Yes,” he confirms, taking another drink of his beer.

“Why did you two divorce?”

 

 

Ryan

 

 

“Why did you two divorce?”

I think for a moment how to answer that question. When I told my parents we were getting a divorce and that I was giving her the house, they didn’t question me. I think deep down they knew this day would eventually come. It was the reason my dad insisted on a prenup.

“I married my best friend,” I tell her honestly, which has her looking at me like I’m crazy. “But unlike most people who say that but really mean they married the love of their life, she really was just my friend. She had needs I couldn’t meet.” She wanted a life I couldn’t envision ever having.

Micaela raises one brow. “Ohhh.” She nods slowly, her heart-shaped lips forming a perfect, pouty circle, and my dick takes over my brain as I imagine what it would be like to have those lips wrapped around my shaft.

“Oh, what?” I choke out, trying to shake off the vision.

“You suck in bed,” she deadpans. “They have tutorials for everything on YouTube, you know. Including how to meet a woman’s needs.” She cracks a smile, telling me she’s kidding, but my vision of her sucking my dick turns into me taking her to bed and showing her over and over again that I more than know how to meet a woman’s needs. Fuck, I can’t go there. She’s mourning the loss of her husband. She’s twenty. A family friend…

I grab the towel from behind me and throw it at her, smacking her in the face. “Not like that, perv.” Although, she isn’t far off. The sex, when we would actually have it, was similar to our marriage: forced and awkward. I always made sure she was taken care of, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted intimacy, to feel cherished and loved…

“What needs then?”

“Marital shit. Like, she wanted to start a family.” And I wasn’t about to place roots in a failing marriage—hell, if I’m honest, I don’t think it was ever succeeding. I grew up in a household with two people who not only were madly in love with each other, but loved being parents. My dad chose to be a stay-at-home dad. I couldn’t even stand being home for more than a day before I was itching to leave again.

“You didn’t want that?”

“I wasn’t capable…”

“You’re not helping your case here,” she says with a soft giggle that has me wanting to throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed.

“Physically, I’m capable. But mentally…” I clear my throat. “She wanted a real marriage, a relationship, the family, a husband… But the only things I could give her was my last name, a roof over her head, and money to make sure she was living comfortably.” I sigh, hating that the most important role a man can take on is the one I sucked at. “I’m good at my job. Fixing things, making them right.”

“Saving people.”

“I guess…” I take a sip of my beer. “In my job, when there’s a problem, you fix it. When we were younger, and Laura was hurting, I fixed it. But she needed more than to just be fixed. She needed a husband, and I wasn’t so good at that.”

Micaela eyes me for a moment, all joking put aside, and I avert my gaze, hating how vulnerable I feel. I’m not good at this talking shit, but she makes me want to actually talk. I’ve said more to her today than I’ve probably said to Laura in all our years of marriage.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” she begins, but I cut her off. She has nothing to be sorry about.

“No.” I wave her off. “It’s why I’m here. I’m not good at staying still in one place for long. It’s hard to make a marriage work when one of the people in the marriage is never home.”

“So, why didn’t you stay? Try to make it work?”

“The truth?” I look her dead in the eyes, and she nods. “I didn’t want to. I mean, I did… but I didn’t. I tried to want it, but deep down, I couldn’t. Every time I would return home I was itching to leave again. My skin would literally crawl.”

“Leave her, or just leave in general?”

“In a marriage, aren’t they one and the same?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” she admits softly. “I was only married for seven months, and during that time I only saw him a few times.”

“I don’t know either. I see what my parents have and I want that, but when I was with Laura, I didn’t feel it. I felt restless, and the idea of starting a family… She deserved to have all that. So, I’m happy she finally has it all and with a man who will be by her side.”

“Ian and I never discussed kids. It wasn’t part of our five-year plan.” She stares toward the water, her eyes slightly glossing over. “I don’t even know if he wanted kids. Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“What do you want?”

She sits up and throws her legs over the side of the lounge chair. “I want to curl up in bed and watch some YOU on Netflix.” She pats my leg. “I’m off to bed. Thank you for today.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. “For what it’s worth, I think you would make a great husband. I think you just have to find the woman you’re meant to be with.”

As she walks away, thoughts of the day Laura asked for a divorce resurface. “One day you’re going to fall in love and you won’t want to run away. You’ll want to be with the woman you love. But first, you have to stop running so you can meet her.”

I try—and fail—to ignore the fact that today was the first day in years where I didn’t feel the need to run.

 

 

Micaela

 

 

“Up and at ’em,” a deep voice says, waking me from my slumber.

I release an annoyed growl and turn over, so the light shining in from the open door disappears, and pull the blanket up to my head to cover my face.

“Time to get up.”

“Go away,” I groan.

There’s a slight tug on my blanket, so I fist it tighter, but Ryan’s too strong, and he easily rips the blanket from my body, dragging it off the bed.

“It’s cold,” I whine.

“That’s because you turn the air down to arctic temps before you go to bed.”

“Which is why I need my blanket,” I argue, my eyes still closed and my hand blindly waving in the air, trying to grab the blanket back. “Please.”

“Nope, breakfast is ready. We have plans today.”

I open one eye, my interest piqued. “Plans?”

Ryan smirks. “Come eat, so we can get going. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

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