Never Can Tell by C. M. Stunich Read Free Book Online

best not to sigh contentedly. That wouldn't exactly be in my character, now would it? “It took me awhile, but even a dense shithead such as myself gets it after awhile. If I'm with you, and Noah, and whoever it is that this may or may not be.” Ty puts his hand on my belly and gives me a smoldering look. “I am fucking whole and everything else doesn't mean shit.”
    “Eloquently put,” I tell him, but despite all the cursing and the sexual ardor infused into his words, Ty always makes sense. He's profane but wise. I love that about him. I think that's one of the things that set him apart from the other boys I was with, the ones who had pasts just as hot, just as vulnerable and unstable, crackling like a soon-to-be explosion. They still didn't get it, not even after all they'd been through. They cussed, too, (in the few, small brief conversations I ever had with any of them) though probably not as much, but all they talked about where parties and drinking and drugs and girls and fucking and sports. They didn't have bracelets and they didn't wear rings and they sure as shit didn't speak in quotable quotes worthy of slapping onto the side of a mug or the front of a T-shirt.
    Ty watches me, watches these thoughts move across my eyes and then kisses me gently on the lips before I can protest.
    “I know what you're going to say, but don't. This isn't my dream; you are. I don't care about this house; I care about you. Let's sell it and start over, wherever you want. In the South, the West, the North fucking Pole. Despite my previous, precarious position, I have sick ass fucking credit. I can buy you another house. You can go back to school.”
    “Promise me you'll never do a job that kills your soul, one that breaks you, promise me you'll never … ” I don't need to finish that sentence. Promise me you'll never use your body to get by in this world. It isn't worth it. It never was. I know Ty said he was done with that, and I believe him, but I know his love delves deep and if it came down to feeding his family, he'd do whatever it took. He looks at me for a long, long while.
    “I promise,” he says, easy, just like that. I smile. Noah starts to cry. Ty grins and kisses his head, grabbing me by the hand and pulling us down the stairs. Neither of us speaks while he prepares a bottle and hands it to me. “I had fun here, though,” he tells me, and I know that's true. He points down at Chuck Norris. “And I'm taking the cat.”
    I smile back at him.
    “And the dog.” We both glance over at Angelica. My mother must know by now that we named a bitch after her. Fitting, I think, she is one. I'm sure my little sisters delighted in telling her, unaware that they were probably pushing her to the edge of a tantrum.
    “So you're in?” he asks. I think for a minute, gazing at my son, his cheeks, his pretty hazel eyes. I was almost positive he was going to end up with copper hair, but I guess Ty's genes felt the need to bully in there, mark him with a bit of that beautiful blackness that's in both of our souls. I wonder if this move would help me feel better, if I could get over this stupid fuck ass slump and figure out why I'm not as happy as I should be. If it will help me decide whether or not to keep my second baby. I don't have to think very long.
    “I'm in.”

8
    We pack up all the stupid shit we had shipped out here in the first place, get ready send it back home with Beth's blessing. I can't help but wonder how my mother feels about all of this, if she even cares. She hasn't asked once about her grandkid.
    Ty's already spoken with a realtor, and they have somebody that wants to see the house. One week on the market and the old rambler is drawing attention. Not too fucking shabby. This house does have character, I think, as I glance up at the tin ceiling, the crown molding, the fading wallpaper. If someone with money were to come in here and flip it, it would probably be pretty fabulous. As of right now, it's kind of a