Promise of Forever by Jessica Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

me! I hope you say yes, my love.
     
    Always Yours,
    John
     
    It was the final nail in the coffin. The smoking gun. I read it again, then again, and then a third time, each time hoping I’d find another explanation that didn’t involve my father being Chloe’s father.
    But I didn’t find it.
    I looked over at Chloe for the first time since I started reading the letters. She was silent, her eyes wet with sadness.
    “I didn’t want you to find out,” she finally said, her voice barely audible.
    “Why?”
    “Because I didn’t want you to be in this kind of pain.”
    “So you were going to shoulder the pain for both of us?” I frowned at her and shook my head. “Silly girl,” I whispered.
    I leaned my head back and pounded my head against the wall. I was defeated and enraged that there was nothing I could do to change things. My hands slumped to my sides, causing the stack of letters to slide off my grasp and into the empty space between us.
    “But you’re right, Clo.” I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t deal with this reality.”
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Jackson
    “Keep ’em comin’, Joe,” I said, waving the bartender over to refill my empty shot glass.
    “Are you sure, man?” He came over with the bottle of Jim Beam bourbon whiskey. “I just opened this fifth tonight when I opened the bar, and you’re the only person who’s been drinking it.
    I looked at the near half-empty bottle of bourbon in his hands and snorted. “It still looks pretty fucking full to me.” I lifted my empty shot glass up at him and motioned for him to pour me another shot.
    “If you say so,” he said with a shrug and filled my glass to the brim.
    I threw back the shot, barely tasting it by this point as it went down as smooth as water.
    “Hey, baby,” came a woman’s voice from behind me.
    For a split second, I wondered if it was Chloe. I turned around and frowned.  It wasn’t her. Wishful thinking , I thought.
    The blonde who had spoken slid into the stool next to me and flashed me a smile. “You look like you’re in need of some company. Wanna buy me a drink?” 
    My eyes gave her a once-over. She was wearing a tiny red minidress that left very little to the imagination.
    “You like what you see?” She bit her bottom lip and leaned into me, letting her full breasts spill over her low-cut top, in perfect line with my vision.
    Ignoring her question, I turned back to my empty shot glass and motioned to the bartender for another round.
    “I’ll have a mojito,” the blonde whispered into my ear. Then I felt her wet tongue lick up against my jaw line before she started to nibble my earlobe. At the same time, her hand moved down my side and over my crotch.
    My groin tighten in response—aroused and in need of its release. But before the blonde could begin to rub against my growing erection and stimulate it further, I grabbed her hand and pushed her away.
    “Nooot interested,” I said flatly as I pushed my glass toward Joe as he approached with the bottle of Jim Beam.
    “What about my drink?” the blonde pouted, somehow ignoring my brush-off.
    I finally turned to her. “What about it?”
    “Well aren’t you going to order it for me?” She flashed me another smile and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
    “Nah.” I turned back to my drink and threw it back.
    “Why not?” she asked, unwilling to accept my lack of interest.
    “Because you’re more than capable of ordering and buying your own drink.”
    “What the fuck is your problem?” She glared at me. “I felt how hard your cock got when I touched it just now. Don’t act like you don’t want a piece of this .” She waved her hand down in front of her body. 
    By this point, the countless shots of bourbon were catching up to me and I was losing my patience.
    “Don’t flatter yourself. My cock gets hard when I’m drunk. It would get hard even for Joe over there, and I definitely don’t want to fuck him. So why don’t you go