Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I groan, guiding her hips down harder. “I hope it includes you riding me.”
“Looks like we’re on the same page.”
She begins to lift but stops. Her hair falls into her face as she lowers her lips to mine, kissing me tenderly.
“Thank you for sharing all of that,” she says softly. “It means a lot to me.”
“Thank you for listening.”
The pain in my soul isn’t quite as powerful as it was an hour ago. The load that I carry on my shoulders is a bit lighter. I’m breathing easier.
Gabrielle probably has no idea that I’ve never told that story in that detail to anyone. She cannot understand the gift she gave me by affording me the room, the safety, to unburden a bit of my pain.
I peer up at her.
There’s no judgment in her eyes, no disgust or suspicion. And that brings tears to my eyes.
Gabrielle is the best mother I’ve ever seen, and it means everything to me to have her understand my perspective and take my side. The guilt that I’ve carried with me all these years over not marrying Melody is suddenly . . . less. Gabrielle will never know the gift she just gave me.
And I will never forget it.
“Come here,” I whisper, ushering her closer to me.
She’s so damn beautiful. So sweet, so feisty—so kind. And if I’m careful and play my cards right, she might be mine.
I take her face in my hands and pull her in for a kiss.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GABRIELLE
The sun shines brightly overhead as I stroll down Main Street. A light breeze matches my happy-go-lucky energy, which is due, largely, to the vivid memories of the last few days.
Life with Jay since our agreement to see where things could go between us has been nothing short of wonderful. His good-morning and end-of-the-day texts are ridiculously sweet. We’ve sat on the porch swing after the kids have gone to bed and laughed until we’ve cried. He comes by for lunch every day, and it ends more often than not with me being the main course.
I never knew things could be this good.
I’m not sure what I expected things to be like, mostly because I never expected this to happen with Jay. He was so grumpy and reticent when we first met. He’d certainly mastered the art of keeping people at arm’s length, which hurts my heart to think about. But now? It’s just so . . . easy being with him. It’s natural. It’s right. And every time we’re together, whether for a quick minute or a few stolen hours, we just click a little more.
“Hey, beautiful. Where are you headed?”
I slow my speed and grin without looking at the truck crawling beside me. “Actually, I’m prowling around town looking for a hot carpenter. Know where I can find one?”
“It’s your lucky day.”
I laugh and turn toward Jay’s truck. The passenger’s side window is down, giving me a clear view of his handsome face.
“What are you doing in town?” I ask. “I didn’t think you’d be free for lunch today.”
“Well, I had to grab a few things from the hardware store and figured I’d swing by your house to say hello.”
His wicked grin tells me it was for more than to say hello.
“Sounds like it’s not my lucky day at all since I’m not home,” I say.
“What brings you to town?”
“It’s too pretty of a day to sit around.” I flash him a mischievous smile. “And I really wanted to change the ceiling fan in the living room, but—”
“It’s electrical.” He shakes his head, amused. “I have a better idea. Want to grab a sandwich at Betty Lou’s?”
“With you? I’d love to.”
He throws the truck in park and reaches over the console to open the door for me. I climb in, not quite seated before he kisses me.
“So what have you done today?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.
He expects an answer after such a sweet, dizzying kiss?
“Cleaned up breakfast and did laundry. Then I worked on a new name list that’s been plaguing me a bit. The woman asked for insect-inspired names because her husband is a . . . whatever-ologist who plays with bugs. I put Cricket on there, obviously. But the rest of them feel so yuck.”
We pull into Betty Lou’s parking lot and get out of the truck.
“What about Beetle?” Jay asks, taking my hand. “Or Mantis.”
I lift a brow. “I don’t think either name will make the final cut.”
“Come on. Mantis could work. It’s strong.” He opens the door. “Masculine.”
“Did you know it’s well documented that female mantises bite off the heads and consume other body parts of males after mating?”
“And how do you know that?”
I laugh. “I have two sons and they both had an insect era.”
We sit at a table in the corner beside a window facing the street. The pampas grass next to the Betty Lou’s sign needs a trim, and the whiskey barrels on the front porch have seen better days. Still, the restaurant is quite charming.