Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Of all the things in the world…
“You’re a bad influence too. I can’t stop thinking of insults in terms of butts,” I retort.
We both throw our heads back, and our laughter spills off the porch and echoes out into the pounding rain.
Chapter eighteen
Sam
(Finally. Just. Sam.)
We’ve never shared a bed before that wasn’t under contract. Beau has never spent a night in this house as truly himself. I was a job to him, and he had to lie to me. He drafted contracts as part of that lie, but they would still have stood. They were meant to protect us both.
It feels surreal to walk into my room and find him on the side of the bed that I’ve thought of as his over the past few months. Ever since that first night, it has belonged to him.
Kind of like my heart.
We were never meant to end up here, but we did. We were never meant to fall in love, but I hope we do. An unlikely outcome between two unlikely people could never have been predicted. We weren’t supposed to find a happy ending or a happily ever after, but I hope we do. I know that, technically, the only ending in life is death, but I hope that’s a long way off for both of us. I want to fill the years we have from now until then with laughter, happiness, and goodness for both of us. I used to wish I could heal this man just by touching him, but I couldn’t. It’s going to take more than that. No person can heal anyone else, but now he wants to do it for himself. He wants to be here with me and be open to doing the things he never thought he could do again. Like feel. Fall. Love. Cherish. Be together forever.
Beau never could stick to his side. I always felt jammed up on the remainder of the bed. He’s too big. Too larger-than-life. Too all-encompassing. Seeing him take up more than his fair share of the mattress while covered with my patchwork quilt makes my chest feel bruised by the amount of happiness that hits me. The little butterflies I stitched onto the quilt to cover up the rips and tears since it’s old and a garage sale find seem to flutter as they dance all over the surface, hiding strong limbs, lean muscles, and a body that mine has been craving for months.
I want to throw myself into his arms, but I close the door gently, walk over with immense control, and slip under the blankets instead.
We both freeze, staring at each other. I want to leap on top of him, and if he doesn’t want that, then I need to inform him of my desire for him so he can tie me to the headboard to physically stop me, but the words die on my tongue.
“Do you think your sister knows what’s going to happen in here tonight? Is that why she went out to the barn?”
That’s a really good icebreaker. I laugh and stick my hands in my lap so as to keep them to myself. That’s also a pretty clear flashing neon sign that says I want you too, Sam. I want to do all the unspeakable things to you that you once told me you wanted. I’ve been thinking about sticking my meat candle into your candle holder this entire time, and I’m barely human right now with how badly I want you.
“Oh. She…uh…she doesn’t live in the house. She did at first when she moved in, but we’ve been renovating the barn, and now that I’ve got it fixed structurally, she can live out there. I’ve asked her a thousand times to keep her room in here, but she wants her own space. She has this dream for the barn, of turning it into an antiques slash little clothing shop. I’m not sure who would come all the way out here, but it’s her vision, and I’m not going to mess with it. She’s been sort of restless all her life, but really, I think she just hasn’t found her groove, and people have always told her no. They’ve doubted her so often that she doesn’t believe in herself. She also wants to grow vegetables in the summer and do farmer’s markets. Apparently, there are a ton of them around here.”
“I think she could do anything. When I walked up, I really believed she could actually tear off my arms and stuff them down my throat.”
“That was plan B if you hurt me.” I don’t wink at him because Katie’s probably capable of doing it. Not that I would have let her.
“I’m so—”
“Shh.” I drag my thumb over his lips, and they slam together obediently. “I know you’re sorry. I’m sorry, too, that you nearly died taking a bullet for me that night.”