The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone (best book club books of all time txt) 📕

knock on her door reverberated through her living room and kitchen. Frowning, she peered at the clock on the wall above the stove. Who would possibly be on her doorstep at seven thirty in the morning? Setting the cup down on the counter, she crossed the small distance on bare feet. For a second, she hesitated, casting a glance down at her black tank top, which cupped her breasts and stretched over her baby bump, and the small pair of pink sleep shorts. She shrugged, continuing toward the front door. Hey, if someone was rude enough to drop by unannounced this early, then they got what they got. Which in this case was boobage, big belly and thick thighs.

She paused next to the window, pulling back the cover and peeking out to see who stood on her dime-sized porch.

“Oh shit,” she breathed. Shock gripped her in its icy fist, and she clutched the curtain, threatening to tug the rod down on her head. “Oh shit,” she repeated, just as breathless.

Daniel.

What the hell was her ex-husband doing in Rose Bend, much less standing on the other side of the door?

Unease trickled into her chest, dripping down to her stomach. But with an irritated scoff at herself, she released the curtain and shifted to the door, clasping the knob. She had no reason to be nervous about Daniel’s appearance, even if it was unexpected. Yes, they were divorced, but he’d never been mean or abusive. Maybe he’d just shown up to see her for himself, make sure her pregnancy was progressing as it should... Yes, she silently admonished, pulling open the door. This was Daniel, for God’s sake. Not a harbinger of doom.

“Daniel,” she greeted warmly, smiling and pushing open the storm door. Because, though still shocked, she was happy to see him. They’d been friends for years, and having his familiar face here brought back memories of those better times. “What a surprise. Come on in.”

“Thank you,” he said, his slight Southern drawl evident in just those two words. His brown-eyed perusal roamed over her, lingering on her belly before returning to her face. “You’re looking well.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, stepping back and waving him inside.

He entered the little cottage, his tall, lean build clad in what she’d once affectionately termed his “summer uniform.” A white polo shirt, crisply pressed khakis with a razor-sharp front crease and brightly buffed dark brown shoes. Funny how the previous evening, Cole had been similarly dressed, and the look had been casual and sexy as hell. Yet, with Daniel, he appeared every inch the stuffy dean of a pretentious prep school—a little uptight, a lot reserved.

Stop it. Tiny needles of guilt pinpricked her. How unfair to compare the two men. How unfair to find Daniel lacking. The men were different. Especially since one elicited a fondness and friendly affection. And the other, a conflagration of grinding, insatiable need that tortured her waking and sleeping hours.

Totally unfair.

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what are you doing here? And why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could’ve planned ahead, and I’m certain my parents would’ve been excited to see you.” Wasn’t that an understatement?

“Is this where you’re staying?” Daniel asked, ignoring her questions and surveying the room. The corner of his mouth curled in a faint sneer of distaste. “It’s kind of...small, isn’t it?”

She tamped down a spurt of annoyance as well as the urge to point out that no one asked him to come here to have his senses offended by her residence. Instead, she shrugged and maintained her smile. Even if it felt strained and phony.

“The Dennisons were kind enough to rent me one of their guest cottages while I look for a permanent house.”

“And the Dennisons are?” he prompted, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his pants. Even that didn’t displace the crease.

“I thought I mentioned them before.” She had—she knew she had. But as she’d discovered through the years with Daniel, he often relegated things that didn’t directly affect him to the bottom of his Give a Damn list. “My friend Leo’s family who owns the bed-and-breakfast. They’re like family to me.” Well, almost all of them were like family.

“That’s nice of them. Just how long do you intend to stay here? Shouldn’t you be preparing for the baby? You only have four more months,” he pointed out, strolling toward the kitchen and peering down the hallway that led to the small two bedrooms and bathroom. “You can’t plan on bringing our daughter back here.”

“No,” she replied through gritted teeth. And suddenly, she recalled another reason why their marriage had started to crumble. This parent/child dynamic. Older, Daniel had treated her more and more like his dependent instead of his wife. And no woman wanted to sleep with Daddy. “Like I said, this is only temporary. I didn’t want to impose on my parents. And I know exactly how much longer I have before she arrives. Y’know, since I’m the one who’s carrying her.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” he said, and immediately, she bit back the impulse to apologize.

Dammit, he’s not your husband anymore. You don’t answer to him, or anyone.

“Daniel, what are you doing here? I know you didn’t just feel like a jaunt to the Berkshires.”

“I didn’t want to do this over the phone...” he began, and those nine words triggered the unease that she’d denied just moments earlier.

A metallic flavor filtered into her mouth—the taste of fear.

“You didn’t want to do what over the phone?” she croaked.

He sighed. “I have to tell you, the entire flight and drive here, I remained on the fence. But seeing this place you’re holed up in, this town... It cemented my decision. Sydney, I don’t do this to hurt you, but I have to think of our baby and her future over your feelings. I’ve been in discussion with my attorney. As soon as the baby is born and several months old, I intend to sue for full