Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Oh, that. I was coming in to tell you everything’s set up.”
Suspicion winds its way through me. “What do you mean, everything?”
“Come see.” He holds out his hand. I don’t have to think twice before taking it and following him downstairs, even if I’m not quite sure what is happening. But this is Ren, and I trust Ren, and besides we’re in my family’s house. There are guards everywhere.
It’s a balmy, beautiful morning, with a warm breeze that stirs my hair once we step out onto the terrace. Ren has set up breakfast for us at one of the tables set up by the railing leading to the garden. “Sort of like a date, right?” he asks, pulling me close for a sweet kiss. I love the way he smiles down at me. Sort of boyish, proud of himself for surprising me.
“This is amazing,” I tell him, beaming as I look over the table full of food. The scent of cinnamon and sugar makes my mouth water, something that only gets worse when he lifts the lid off a platter full of bacon. “Oh, my God, I need that.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you’d get this excited.” He chuckles as he pulls a chair out for me to take a seat. “There’s orange juice, coffee, french toast and potatoes, too.”
“And you,” I remind him, taking him by the shirt and pulling him down for another kiss before he sits across from me. “Thank you. This is so thoughtful.”
“It’s nothing. I can’t wait to take you out for real.” There’s a little bit of wistfulness in his voice, and I hate to hear it. I don’t want anything to ruin this wonderful morning together.
“I’m just happy to be here with you.” And to see him looking so good and so happy. So much like himself. It’s been days since I last saw River. I can tell he’s relieved by that. It makes him feel more confident. Like he’s not always waiting for something bad to happen.
I can breathe a little easier, too. It’s almost possible to believe we’re going to have a happy ending after everything we’ve been through.
“I didn’t realize I was this hungry,” he mumbles around a mouthful of food. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him shove it in like that. Another thing to be happy about, watching him enjoy himself. I am, too, already eyeing a third slice of French toast when I’ve barely finished the first two.
“That’s how it goes. You take a bite of something delicious, and all of a sudden you need more.”
“Yeah, that sounds familiar.” Something wicked flashes in his eyes when they meet mine. “I shouldn’t be so surprised I’m this hungry after the appetite I worked up overnight.”
That’s all it takes for a delicious little shiver to run down my spine. Maybe he’s trying to prove himself after what I confessed a few days back about how it feels to be with River. I don’t know. I only know there’s something wild in him now. Like he was holding back before but understands he doesn’t have to anymore. Like that part of him was always inside — which it must’ve been, if it manifested in the form of River – only now he can let it out and be his entire self. I guess if nothing else good comes out of all of this, we have that much.
“Any plans for the day?” he asks me. We’re just two normal people in love, eating breakfast together. I could get used to this.
Shrugging, I offer, “I’m not sure. I might help Aspen out with some nursery stuff.”
He must figure out right away what’s going on in my head, since his face falls. “You’re still sad about the baby.”
“How can I be when there was never a baby in the first place?” But yes, that’s why the idea of spending an afternoon with my sister-in-law stings a lot. It’s sort of exhausting, having to put on a happy face and pretend everything’s cool when inside all I can do is wonder when it’s going to be my turn. I hate myself for thinking that way – it’s immature, for one thing, and for another thing, Aspen would never think that way if our positions were reversed. She is much too sweet and generous for that, while I’m just being selfish.
“You’re entitled to feel how you feel,” he reminds me in a soft but firm voice. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I know you’re right.” And I love him even more for hearing me out and not trying to gloss over my feelings. Growing up with a father like mine, I’m used to people thinking they can solve all my problems for me. He’s not trying to do that. He just wants to help me through it. He is exactly what I need, perfect for me in every way.