Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I came apart under his thrusts, with his name rolling over and over from the tip of my tongue.
He stiffened seconds later, keeping his grip on my hips, holding me taut.
Panting and sweaty, I pressed my head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat the same reckless rhythm as mine.
After several moments, Everett pressed a kiss against my neck and slowly slid out of me.
My knees buckled under me, but he caught me before I could fall and helped me to the ground.
I stared at him, wanting more—so much more.
Grabbing my hand, he pulled me on top of him, allowing me to slowly sink onto him, and he took me all over again.
We didn’t stop for hours…
NINETEEN
Dahlia
Around four in the morning
The ground sprinklers shot heavy streams of water at us, forcing us to stand.
“Which way should we go?” Everett asked.
“Through the hostas.”
He led the way, but when we’re halfway back to the shop, the taller sprinklers drenched us with heavy mists.
Laughing like we used to, we raced through the flowers. At one point, Everett picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me until we reached the indoors.
I tossed off my shirt, exchanging it for a souvenir top. Then I tossed him one and he followed suit.
Unsure of what to say or do, or if the sex between us meant anything, I waited for him to make the first move.
“Is there a kitchen here?” he asked.
“There’s the makings of one.”
“Is it good enough for me to make breakfast?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, and he followed me down a hall and behind the counter.
I took a seat on a stool, and as if he’d been here before, he opened and closed cabinets.
For a moment, watching him make pancakes and eggs was like revisiting our first time in the past.
The awkward silence that descended over us while we ate made it clear that we weren’t.
“Why did you really leave me, Dahlia?” He sets down a fork. “I deserve an answer.”
“I told you.”
“I want a real fucking honest answer.”
“I’d never be able to give you what you wanted. Well. there was a high chance of that anyway.”
“What part of ‘I wanted you’ are you still struggling to comprehend after all this time?”
“I wanted you, too, but—”
“There is no ‘but.’” He shook his head. “I got carried away with you hours ago.”
“So, the sex didn’t mean anything to you?”
“I need a real answer before I can determine that.”
“Then let me give it to you…” I croaked. “Please just listen…”
FINAL FROST
BACK THEN
Dahlia,
I’m starting to think you like gardening a lot more than you claim. This is the third weekend you’ve turned down a breakfast with me because the magnolias “desperately need you.” :-)
Something you want to finally admit to me?
See you tonight.
Forever Writing You,
Everett
Even though Everett and I text and call each other nonstop, he goes out of his way to send me a new letter every weekend.
They always arrive sealed with a bright blue wax seal, but this one was torn open and there are mulch-prints all over the card.
“Mommm!” I rush down the steps, waving Everett’s latest letter. “Mommm!”
“Yes, Dahlia?” She yells from the kitchen.
“Why did you open my latest letter?”
“I didn’t.” She looks up at me. “I’ve never done that at all.”
“Then why is the wax seal broken?”
“Because I opened it.” Aunt Gertrude shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t hiding a baby from us.”
“A what?”
“You’ve been getting round lately.” She poked my stomach with a pen. “But I guess it’s just too many potatoes. I won’t be cooking those anymore for a while.”
“Thank you so much, Aunt G.”
“You’re welcome.” She shrugs and looks at my mother. “For the record, it was just another typical letter from the Everett boy.”
“He should just go ahead and propose.” My mom laughs. “I can’t see either of you ever dating anyone else.”
Me either. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back to finish prepping the tulip bulbs later tonight!”
I stepped outside and headed to my car.
As crazy as Aunt Gertrude can be, I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had a period.
She might have a point…
* * *
Half an hour later, I sit on the edge of my bathtub and stare blankly at the positive blue lines on the pregnancy test.
Butterflies are fluttering in my chest, and life suddenly feels more than perfect.
I’m pregnant with Everett’s baby.
I call our family doctor and schedule an appointment for next weekend so I can surprise Everett with the news.
The following Monday, when I’m knee deep in weeds, I feel something between my thighs. Something warm, sticky and wet.
Assuming I’ve cut an irrigation line, I stand up to see where, but I’m not wet from water.
It’s bright red blood.
Oh my god! I unclip my overall straps and push them down to the gravel.
My panties are soaked in blood, too.
Panicking, I call out for my mom and Aunt, but then I remember they’re miles away—handling business in town.