Page 6 of Far from Destined

Font Size:

Page 6 of Far from Destined

There was nothingniceabout me. Part of me had died the day I was shot, the day I had thought would be my last. There was nothing left of me for Dakota or her kid. And she saw that better than anybody. It didn’t matter that the others thought there could be something more between us.

There couldn’t be.

And tonight’s meeting had been the final nail in the coffin of who we were. Too bad it’d taken my blood and her fear to make it happen. I might want Dakota more than my next breath, but wanting was good for nothing. She would never be mine. And the only people that didn’t seem to understand that were those outside the two of us.

Because Dakota sure as hell didn’t want me.

There wasn’t much of me left to want.

Chapter 2

Dakota

“Mom,I can’t find my backpack.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked over the kitchen island to where my son was on his hands and knees, looking under the couch. Apparently, for a backpack that I knew full well could not fit underneath.

“Joshua Bristol. You know that backpack is not there. It’s in your room. The same space I told you to clean.”

“But, Mom. I did clean it.”

I finished packing up his lunch and then reviewed the rest of my to-do list.

“You put away one toy and got distracted yesterday. But it was Sunday, and we both said we were allowed to be lazy if we wanted to.” After I got home from a ten-hour day at work and he was with his babysitter—I ignored the pang in my heart at that. “However, Joshua, you were supposed to pick up the rest of your toys at least and find your backpack before bed.”

If I hadn’t been exhausted, doing a hundred things at once and trying to find another babysitter since one of my two previous ones quit, maybe I would have been able to help him.

As it was, I was too tired to focus. And all I wanted to do was go back to bed. However, I had already been up for three hours, working on paperwork for the Boulder Bean and doing a bunch of prep for the rest of the week. Finishing cleaning my house was not high on the to-do list.

“Found it!” my son shouted as he ran back into the living room, and I poured more of my coffee into my thermos, knowing I’d need more at work today.

Thankfully, my staff had a handle on opening and had offered to take care of it for me this morning, even though it was supposed to be my shift. They understood that I was a single mom. And, sometimes, even though I owned the business, my son came first.

No, healwayscame first.

Then the business, then my friends…then me. Sometimes.

I groaned. Crap. My friends were supposed to show up today for a quick lunch. That most likely meant the inevitable end of any free time I might have.

I loved my friends, the pact sisters as one of the guys had called us. They were the other parts of my soul, the ones that kept me propped up and reminded me that I was human, a woman, and allowed to have some semblance of a life.

Only I did not want to meet with them today, for obvious reasons.

“Where was it?” I asked as Joshua came stomping in, his too-big backpack over his little shoulders, making him look far too adorable for his own good.

“On the peg in my bedroom.”

I barely resisted rolling my eyes. “You mean where it’s supposed to be?” I asked with a singsong tone.

“Maybe,” he said, drawing out the word. “Can I have a muffin?” Joshua asked, rising to his tiptoes.

“The muffins are at the café, and you already had your cereal.”

“But I’m a growing boy. I need muffins.”

“Maybe after school.”

“But after school, that’s the time for cupcakes. You know, muffins with frosting.”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books