Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Ugh . . .
I lie back down and toss and turn some more . . . fuck’s sake. I sit back up, and Henley glances over. “What’s wrong?” he mouths.
I shrug, feeling dejected.
He puts his book down and taps his lap. I walk around and lean over and kiss him.
“What’s happening?” he asks softly as he brushes the hair back from my forehead.
“I can’t sleep.”
He pulls me down onto his lap. “Sit with me for a moment.” I curl up on his lap, and he spreads the blanket over the two of us. “I missed you too,” he murmurs against my temple with a soft kiss.
How did he know?
With his big arms around me, finally safe in his arms, I feel myself begin to relax.
He holds me tight as he closes his eyes too.
Now, we sleep.
Henley scans the key, and the door to our cabana clicks open.
Holy . . .
“Oh my god,” I whisper as I look around. It’s so beautiful that I don’t know where to focus first.
Henley smiles, proud of himself. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” I gasp. “Are you kidding? It’s spectacular.”
The back wall is all glass, looking over the most breathtaking view I have ever seen.
Blue ocean, palm trees, and white sand.
Built on the beach, it’s a timber cabana with a huge deck, private swimming pool, and spa. My eyes roam around the interior. It’s all white, with light wood furnishings. It looks like something straight out of a beach house in a magazine. I walk into the bedroom and see a huge four-poster bed and an en suite with a sunken bathtub. “Oh my god,” I gasp again. “Henley James.” I laugh out loud.
“How’d I do?” He smiles as he takes me into his arms.
“You did good.” I kiss him softly. “You did really good.”
He chuckles and lies on the bed and taps it beside him.
“No way in hell.” I wheel my bag into the bedroom. “If we lie down now, I’m going to fall asleep, and I don’t want to get jet lag. We have to stay awake until tonight.”
He exhales heavily. “And how are we going to do that?”
“We’re going to the beach.”
“What, now?”
“Right now.”
The waves gently lap at the shore, and the sound of the seagulls echoes in the distance. “I’m in heaven.”
“You said that already.”
“Just making sure you know how much I love this place.”
“I do.”
“Do you also know how much I appreciate you booking everything?”
“Yep.”
“And the business class, I can’t even believe we flew business.” I think for a moment. “I just wish I changed into the pajamas, you know?”
“Next time.” He smiles.
I grab Henley’s hand and kiss the back of it. “Thank you.” I kiss his hand again. “You’ve thought of everything.”
Henley props himself up onto his elbow as he lies on his side, his body resting against mine. “You need sunscreen.”
I glance down at myself. “I’ll be fine.”
He sits up and pours some suntan lotion into his hand and rubs it across my back. I smile at the sensation of his hands on my skin. He slowly begins to rub it into my upper thighs. His fingertips skim down over my sex. “Careful, we are in another country,” I murmur. “You’ll get us arrested.”
“What would the charge be? Orgasming in public from rubbing sunscreen on my girlfriend?”
“Exactly that.” I smile sleepily. “See, I told you you’d get used to it.”
“Get used to what?” He slides his fingers beneath my bikini top and tweaks my nipple. I squirm at the sensation.
“Saying the word girlfriend.”
“Meh.” He smirks as he concentrates on his task. “Still an ordinary word. Wife is more of a flex.”
I open my eyes and look up at him. Big brown eyes. His dark hair is messy from the salty sea. His rippled skin already golden and glowing from being in the sun today. How can someone be so utterly gorgeous?
“Wife is much more of a flex,” I whisper, distracted by his beauty.
His gaze follows his hand as he continues to rub the lotion in. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks.
“Married to the love of my life,” I reply without hesitation. “Hopefully pregnant—that’s if we’re blessed with children. If we don’t have children, traveling the world with my husband sounds pretty good too.”
His fingers keep roaming over my skin.
“Where do you see yourself?” I ask.
He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it as if second-guessing his thoughts.
“Tell me . . .”
“I don’t know.”
I watch him. “Yes, you do. You at least have an idea.”
“Recently”—he shrugs, his eyes still following his hands—“I’ve been seeing a very different future from what I always thought I would have.”
I reach up and run my fingers through his dark stubble. “And how does that make you feel?”
He shrugs again, remaining silent . . .
“Terrified, horrified, or just plain petrified?” I smirk.