Tequila Rose Willow Winters (best free e reader txt) 📖

The words rush out of him and worry plays across his handsome features. With a hand running down his face he lets out a rush of air and adds, “This is not what I wanted to talk about tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” That guilt in the pit of my stomach climbs up higher.

“Don’t be; it’s all right,” he tells me and lays his hand out on the table, palm up, coaxing me to take it. I can only stare at his outstretched hand in disbelief. We’ve had plenty of dinners together in public. And I’ve held his hand privately many a time. But … public affection? PDA or whatever it’s called? There’s an unspoken rule between us that we don’t cross that line.

Pulling his hand back, he continues, his cadence easy. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“You don’t want to know?” I ask him with earnest.

Robert hesitates and it’s then that I see how tired he looks. The darkness under his eyes and how his normally cleanly shaved jaw shows more than a five o’clock shadow. “Is everything okay?” I ask and the waiter interrupts the moment, laying down fresh bread and oil on the table.

Once he’s gone, Robert smiles at me. A soft smile that I know well. “I didn’t know you were ready for more,” he says and there’s a sadness in his tone that’s unlike him.

Shifting in my seat, I pull both hands into my lap. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell him, my appetite vanishing.

“I would wait forever for you,” he starts and I cut him off.

“You broke up with me,” I remind him.

“And then you needed me and I went right back to you,” he tells me like that’s what happened.

“It wasn’t the same.” He knows that. It’s not like he took me back. It’s not like I wanted him back either. “My whole life fell apart and you were there for me, but as a friend.”

“I—I,” his frustration shows but it’s not directed at me. With his eyes closed, his next words are pleading. “Do you think I have what we have with all of my friends?” His pale blue eyes beg me as he adds, “Really, Mags? I didn’t know you were ready or that you wanted more.”

My silence is met with a plea from him. “I deserve a chance.”

He may have been surprised by the paternity test, but not as surprised as I am sitting here.

“That’s what this dinner is?” I ask him and as I cross my legs, I can still feel Brody from last night. I’ve never felt like a whore before. The town whispered that word and slut when they found out I was pregnant and there wasn’t a single moment I felt like it was deserved. But sitting here now, having this conversation … I truly think less of myself.

“We can leave, Mags. We can go up north, wherever you want.”

“What?”

“It’s more liberal,” he tells me and his tone adds in that he’s got a whole speech prepared for me.

“I can’t even wrap my head around what you’re saying right now. You want to move? Not just across town but away from here?”

“Don’t you? You wanted to when we were young. Under our angel oak tree.”

My eyes prick with tears remembering that old tree that sits in the center of town and the promises we made together. “We were kids and didn’t know any better.”

“Mags, you name a place, I’ll go with you. We’ll start fresh. Me, you, and Bridget?”

“Bridget may not—”

“I don’t care if I’m not her father.” Robert’s voice is louder than intended and I know other people may have heard. He doesn’t bother to look around us, but he does take in a steadying breath. “I’ll do the test if you want to know, but I don’t care about that. I care that I’ve been there for her every step of the way when I could. You did it all and I’m not trying to take away from that, but I did everything you wanted.”

My mind plays the reel back, wondering what the hell I’ve been thinking all these years.

“I didn’t mean to use you.” I’m careful and slow with my words, wondering if I took advantage of him. A voice in the back of my head tells me I did. Sitting here now with him, how could I not have known how he feels?

“You didn’t take advantage of me. It’s my fault,” he says then takes in another deep breath followed by another swig of his whiskey. “I never asked the right questions or else I would have known you were ready.”

“Ready?”

“For a relationship,” he answers and his strong hand that’s been over every inch of my body lays out on the table again.

“Robert …” I’m stunned, truly. He’s saying all the right things, but … why now?

“I want to make it official. I want to move up north and start fresh. I want it all with you, Mags. With you and Bridget.”

“I slept with him.” The confession slips out unbidden.

My gaze never leaves Robert’s as I choke out, “Last night. I told him he might be Bridget’s father and slept with him.”

Feeling sick to my stomach, I let the silence settle between us.

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asks and Robert offers the man the semblance of a polite smile and orders for both of us. He orders my favorite and exactly what I would have ordered myself. Because he already knows. He knows everything about me.

The air of confidence around him dissipates the moment the waiter leaves. “You slept with him?”

“Yes,” I say with a calm demeanor even though it eats me up inside.