Gone Too Far Read Free Page A

into marriage with Mary Lou nearly two years ago, and he waited for the familiar waves of irritation and anger to wash over him.
    Instead, he felt something strangely similar to relief.
    Because Sarasota was only another few minutes down the road. And the end was finally in sight.
    Sam knew the town well enough—he’d hitched down here from his parents’ house in Fort Worth, Texas, four summers in a row, starting when he turned fifteen. It had changed a lot since then, but he had to believe that the circus school was still over by Ringling Boulevard.
    Which wasn’t too far from Mary Lou’s street address.
    Maybe he should make a quick stop, pick up a few more Bozos, turn this thing into a bona fide clown car.
    On the other hand, one was probably enough to qualify for clown car status.
    His phone finally stopped shaking.
    What were the chances that it had been Mary Lou, finally calling him back?
    Nah, that would be too damn easy.
    Although, in theory, this should have been an easy trip. Pop over to Sarasota. Pick up the divorce papers that Mary Lou was supposed to have sent back to him three weeks ago. Put an end to the giant-ass mistake that was their marriage, and maybe even try to start something new. Like a real relationship with his baby daughter, Haley, who after six months probably wouldn’t even recognize him. Then pop back home to San Diego.
    Fucking easy as pie.
    Except this was Mary Lou he was dealing with. Yes, she was the one who’d filed for this divorce. Yes, she’d been compliant right up to this point. But Sam wouldn’t put it past her to change her mind at the zero hour.
    And it was, indeed, the zero hour.
    And, true to form, Mary Lou was surely messing with him.
    Had to be.
    Why else would she not have sent the papers back to the attorney after receiving them four weeks ago? Why else would she not return Sam’s phone calls? Why else would she not pick up the phone even when he called at oh dark hundred, when he knew she had to be there because the baby was surely sleeping?
    Sam reached for the stick to downshift as he took the exit ramp for Bee Ridge Road, and came into contact with the stupidass automatic transmission.
    Six months ago, this entire suckfest scenario would have made him bullshit. Everything sucked. This car sucked, the fact that he had to come all this way for something that should have cost the price of a first-class postage stamp sucked, and knowing that Haley was going to look at him as if he were some stranger really sucked.
    But along with his weird feeling of relief came a sense of readiness. Maybe this wasn’t going to be easy, but that was okay. He was ready for it. He was ready for anything.
    Like, Haley was probably going to cry when he tried to hold her. So he wouldn’t hold her at first. He’d take it slow.
    And Mary Lou, well, she was probably going to ask him to get back together. He was ready for that, too.
    “Honey, you know as well as I do that it just wasn’t working.” He tried the words aloud, glancing at himself in the rearview mirror, checking to see if he looked apologetic enough.
    But, shit, he looked like roadkill. His eyes were bloodshot behind his sunglasses, and the flight out of Atlanta had been weather delayed for so damn long that he desperately needed a shower.
    And he definitely shouldn’t start out by calling her honey. She had a name, and it was Mary Lou. Honey—and every other term of endearment he’d ever used, like sugar, darling, sweetheart, sweet thing —was demeaning.
    He could practically hear Alyssa Locke’s voice telling him so. And God knows Alyssa Locke was the Queen of Right.
    She’d hated it something fierce when he’d called her sweet thing. So he’d called her Alyssa, drawing the S’s out as he whispered her name in her perfect ear as they’d had sex that should’ve been listed in the world record books. Best Sex of All Time—Sam Starrett and Alyssa Locke, Champions of the Simultaneous Orgasm.
    Ah, God.
    What was