Wanting Reed (Break Me) BOOK 2 Read Online Free Page A

my lip and fucking ache at the thought of that. My life is one big fucking tragedy, but for some reason, getting on that plane and being close to her makes life worth living, even if I don’t get the chance to talk to her. The fact that there’s less space between us makes me breathe a little better.
     

     
    The doors to the Home Depot slide open, and I’m blasted by the cold air and the smell of lumber and fertilizer. The girl at the customer service counter gives me a very welcoming smile and once-over when I walk over to ask her where the paint department is located. She’s nothing short of model material, standing behind the counter in her orange apron. Her white V-neck T-shirt dips just enough to show the swell of her breasts and her tight jeans hug every curve. I’m sure every man that walks through those damn doors fantasizes about what he would like to do with her in the sack. Just a few short months ago, I would have jumped at her obvious invitation, but now I have no desire to touch another woman. Looking is fine. I can appreciate a beautiful woman with my eyes, but Elle owns my heart now.
    Momma has no idea I’m doing this for her. I shouldn’t have waited so long to do it, but it just goes along with how I operate. I wait until the last minute and always scramble to get shit done. I locate the paint aisle, which is at the back of the store. I think I can manage with my one arm, but if not, I may have to recruit Tommy. I know for a fact he hates to paint, which is kind of ridiculous, since he works construction.
    Shit. I hate trying to figure out what color to choose. Women are good at this kind of stuff. I wish I had Elle here to help me. I wonder what her favorite color is. I don’t want to think about that and the things that I may never learn about her. I know Momma likes any shade of blue so that makes it a little less of a headache as I flip through the Martha Stewart sample cards that fill an entire wall. I’m reminded of the time I was in Elle’s house the day I took her to the beach. After mulling for about ten minutes, I finally make my choice, a turquoise shade that reminds me of the ocean. I pick up some paintbrushes, a drop cloth, and blue painters’ tape and then take my paint to the counter to get mixed.
    The man behind the counter has his back to me, sorting through some hardware. He’s wearing a backwards Cowboys baseball cap, faded blue jeans and a navy T-shirt that has sawdust sprinkled on the sleeves. I notice the tattoo of the state of Texas on his forearm and swallow hard as my stomach clenches. Fuck. I try to gather my stuff before he turns around, but my nerves cause me to drop everything onto the dusty concrete floor.
    I don’t even bother to pick up the crap as his eyes meet mine. It’s my dad. Shocked, like me, he steps back and rests his calloused, overworked hands on the counter. A smile spreads across his face and he adjusts the baseball cap on his head, so I can see the Dallas Cowboys stitching on the front. How ironic that after being here for a month our paths cross the day before I leave.
    “Hey, Son. What a surprise.” He glances around like he’s embarrassed to be seen working before reaching out to shake my hand. His excessive drinking as well as sun exposure has caught up to him. His face has wrinkled some, and his hand feels brittle and strong. He’s put on some weight, but he needed it.
    “Hi.” That’s all I can muster out of my mouth. This is one of those moments where you just don’t know what to say. All the words are lodged in your throat, floating in your head, but you just don’t know how to fucking string them together, because you’re not prepared for the situation. He’s my father. He gave me life and that’s all. He feels like a complete stranger to me.
    He tensely clears his throat as I start to put all the items back onto the counter.
    “What happened to your arm there?” he asks, motioning with his chin.
    “Just a small break,” I