Wait for Always by K.A. Linde EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: K.A. Linde
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
SAVANNAH
PRESENT
The only available parking spot was in front of the fire hydrant.
I narrowed my eyes in exasperation. Of course, on the day that
I had to deal with this, there wasn’t going to be a single spot in downtown
Savannah. This morning was an uncharacteristic eighty degrees and ninety
percent humidity in March, and I had a meeting to get to after this.
But no … my dick ex needed me to get my shit out of his house today, or
he was going to—quote—“chuck it out the window.” It didn’t matter that I’d
been asking to come over to get my stuff for weeks. He’d refused at every
turn. So, while I knew jumping at the first chance he gave me was playing
exactly into his hand, I might never get my favorite cardigan back if I didn’t.
“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath.
I parallel parked in front of the fire hydrant, prayed that I wouldn’t get a
ticket, then popped the door on my BMW, and rushed to the sidewalk. My
heels clicked noisily as I stormed up the front walk of the dilapidated house.
Mark had inherited it from his great uncle and didn’t have the liquid assets to
keep it in adequate shape despite or because of his flagrant use of daddy’s
money in everything else in his life. The number of red flags I’d ignored
climbed ever higher.
I rang the doorbell and tapped my foot. Mark had always hated that. So
now, I did it with relish while I waited.
No one came to the door though, and my long, straight brown hair was
beginning to curl at the end. I rang again, knowing Mark hated that too.
“Christ, Amelia,” Mark snapped as he wrenched the door open. “So
impatient.”
Seven months, nine days, and about fourteen hours—that was exactly
how long I’d wasted my time with Mark Armstrong.
“Can I have my stuff?” I asked, not keeping the irritation out of my voice.
I couldn’t even reach for my pageant smile. With the snarl I could barely
contain on my lips, no one would ever know that I’d won Miss Georgia
“Don’t want to come in and have a drink?” he asked, leaning against the
doorframe.
He was exactly my type—tall, dark, and handsome with daddy’s money
and an old Savannah surname that matched mine. I’d excused a lot of
behavior for how well we should have fit together.
“I just want my stuff. Let’s not do this today.”
His smile lit up at my rude behavior. “Come on, pageant queen. Give me
a smile.”
I couldn’t manage it. I just crossed my arms. “Mark.”
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “Jesus, never could take a joke.”
A joke. Right.
He kicked a box across the threshold. Actually kicked it.
I reached down and looked through the contents. Of course, my cardigan
wasn’t in there. “Where’s my cardigan? The Taylor Swift one.”
“Fuck if I know.”
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