More Than Friends (Kingsley #4) Read Online Free
Author: Brandi Kennedy
house.
The house itself was nothing fancy; it was the personal meaning of the house that screamed "failure!" to him. Michael was a planner; the house had been purchased as a part of his plan for the future, as an investment in a dream he had once believed was possible.
He had had it all planned out since he was a young boy, watching his father dote on his mother during her last troubled pregnancy. He would be a perfect husband, just like his father – a strong man, a gentle leader, a reliable provider. His wife would be perfect, too – beautiful, supportive, wise. Together, they would raise a large, happy family in a beautifully restored version of the battered old farmhouse that had been falling apart on the edge of town for as long as Michael could remember.
Now partially restored, the old farmhouse belonged to him, but Michael felt no rush of joy in its possession anymore. He had no wife to greet him at the end of a long day, no children to run up and down the wide halls, and the old house was just an empty reminder of what could have been.
He wished he was a more casual man, one who could more easily let go of the serious intent behind the taking of his marriage vows. He wished he could just shake it off – but he felt that marriage should be forever. He felt that somewhere out in the world, he still had a wife. His mind had long since accepted the fact of his divorce from Nicolette, but his heart? No. And he was terrified that his heart would always call her what she had once promised through trembling lips to be forever – his wife.
The way he saw it, that made him more than just a failure as a husband . If he truly couldn't let it go ... if he really spent his life stuck in the past, mourning a marriage that no longer existed ... then he was, perhaps, a failure as a man .
Sighing, Michael reached for the paper bag still resting, unopened, on the seat beside him. He stared up at his house as he unfolded the top of the bag, glowing white in the moonlight that bathed the front yard and lit the inside of the truck. He had done this once before – as an excited newlywed, listening quietly as his young wife had chattered on about how much fun their children would someday have, running through that big yard.
He pulled his burger from the bag and folded back the wrapper, closing his eyes against his memory of her words.
"We'll have all the kids close together," she had said, smiling over at him. "Like you and your siblings. I hope we have at least one boy first too, you know? To have a big brother in the family? And he'll watch out for his little sisters when they go to school, and scare their boyfriends when they start to date."
"No," Michael had retorted, trying to sound grouchy. "There will be a firm no-boyfriends rule in place. No boyfriends. Hm-mm."
Nicolette had laughed at him then, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. "You know that will never work, right?"
"I know," he had sighed. They had sat for a while in silence, both lost in their own imaginings. Finally, Michael had shaken his head, swallowing the last bite of his meal. "Let's just agree to have all boys," he had said, lifting his arm and draping it over her shoulders.
She had turned to him, smiling, and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his throat. "Want to go in and start now?"
"Damn." Dropping the rest of the unfinished burger back into the bag beside him, Michael shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. There was no way he was going into that house alone. Tonight, he was going to need someone to help him fend off the ghosts of what might have been.
He was going to need to find a companion.
Fifteen minutes later, he was parked in front of his favorite local bar, his keys clicking softly in his pocket as he slammed the door of the truck and walked toward the bar. It was exactly what you'd expect a hookup bar to be – huge, crowded, and vibrating
The house itself was nothing fancy; it was the personal meaning of the house that screamed "failure!" to him. Michael was a planner; the house had been purchased as a part of his plan for the future, as an investment in a dream he had once believed was possible.
He had had it all planned out since he was a young boy, watching his father dote on his mother during her last troubled pregnancy. He would be a perfect husband, just like his father – a strong man, a gentle leader, a reliable provider. His wife would be perfect, too – beautiful, supportive, wise. Together, they would raise a large, happy family in a beautifully restored version of the battered old farmhouse that had been falling apart on the edge of town for as long as Michael could remember.
Now partially restored, the old farmhouse belonged to him, but Michael felt no rush of joy in its possession anymore. He had no wife to greet him at the end of a long day, no children to run up and down the wide halls, and the old house was just an empty reminder of what could have been.
He wished he was a more casual man, one who could more easily let go of the serious intent behind the taking of his marriage vows. He wished he could just shake it off – but he felt that marriage should be forever. He felt that somewhere out in the world, he still had a wife. His mind had long since accepted the fact of his divorce from Nicolette, but his heart? No. And he was terrified that his heart would always call her what she had once promised through trembling lips to be forever – his wife.
The way he saw it, that made him more than just a failure as a husband . If he truly couldn't let it go ... if he really spent his life stuck in the past, mourning a marriage that no longer existed ... then he was, perhaps, a failure as a man .
Sighing, Michael reached for the paper bag still resting, unopened, on the seat beside him. He stared up at his house as he unfolded the top of the bag, glowing white in the moonlight that bathed the front yard and lit the inside of the truck. He had done this once before – as an excited newlywed, listening quietly as his young wife had chattered on about how much fun their children would someday have, running through that big yard.
He pulled his burger from the bag and folded back the wrapper, closing his eyes against his memory of her words.
"We'll have all the kids close together," she had said, smiling over at him. "Like you and your siblings. I hope we have at least one boy first too, you know? To have a big brother in the family? And he'll watch out for his little sisters when they go to school, and scare their boyfriends when they start to date."
"No," Michael had retorted, trying to sound grouchy. "There will be a firm no-boyfriends rule in place. No boyfriends. Hm-mm."
Nicolette had laughed at him then, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. "You know that will never work, right?"
"I know," he had sighed. They had sat for a while in silence, both lost in their own imaginings. Finally, Michael had shaken his head, swallowing the last bite of his meal. "Let's just agree to have all boys," he had said, lifting his arm and draping it over her shoulders.
She had turned to him, smiling, and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his throat. "Want to go in and start now?"
"Damn." Dropping the rest of the unfinished burger back into the bag beside him, Michael shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. There was no way he was going into that house alone. Tonight, he was going to need someone to help him fend off the ghosts of what might have been.
He was going to need to find a companion.
Fifteen minutes later, he was parked in front of his favorite local bar, his keys clicking softly in his pocket as he slammed the door of the truck and walked toward the bar. It was exactly what you'd expect a hookup bar to be – huge, crowded, and vibrating
Readers choose
Natalie Herzer
Sandra Worth
Laurent Seksik
Barbara Eppich Struna
Angela Foxxe
Megan Mulry
Linda Kay Silva
Unknown
Hella S. Haasse
Glenn Cooper