Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I nod. I know. And if Alexis hadn’t been brave enough to hand me that letter on my wedding day, who knows what would have happened? Who knows how long they would’ve been able to keep doing what they were doing?
I climb out of Josie’s car and then clamber straight into my own, leaving her standing beside the Civic dumbfounded. “What are you doing? You’re going somewhere?”
The words are almost unbelievable as I say them. “Yep. To Bennett’s house. Wish me luck.”
Josie shakes her head. “You don’t need luck, babe. You’ve got Summer.”
Damn straight.
I punctuate the sentiment by pulling her pink sunglasses out of my purse and sliding them on my face.
Bennett
Candles litter the studio, and Norah’s painting—the one I’ve spent the last two days straight making—hangs casually on the wall. Pink and orange and peach all blend together in a swirling line and end in a chocolatey-brown center. It’s warm and inviting and perfectly encapsulates everything Norah Ellis is to me.
Thanks to Breezy’s involvement in my scheme, she should be here any second, and my heart is a Thoroughbred beneath my rib cage at the thought of seeing her.
Painstakingly long minutes pass in the flickering light as I will my ears to hear the sound of crunching gravel, so much so that when they finally do, I nearly convince myself I’m making it up.
But when moments pass and the sound of a car door slamming echoes across the walls, I steady myself for whatever this wild, loving troublemaker has to throw my way.
I deserve all of it, I’m sure, and maybe even more than that. But with Summer’s adoring affection on my heart and mind, I’m bound and determined to get to the good part, no matter what scary parts lie between me and it.
Norah’s head is down as she pushes through the door, the lack of overhead lights probably falsely assuring her that no one is in here. She slides Summer’s pink sunglasses off her face and into her purse, and the fact that she’s still wearing my daughter’s favorite lenses makes my heart feel too big to fit inside my chest.
I wait for her to notice the candles, and as she does, a gasp falls from her most perfect lips, and her brown gaze jerks up to meet mine.
I try on a smile, though I have the supreme feeling it’s haggard and shaky, and a magic light flares in her eyes.
“Bennett? What is all this?”
I step forward slowly, willing myself not to scare her by going too fast. She deserves to be cherished and romanced, and in order to do that, I have to find a way to be measured in my excitement.
“It’s what’s long overdue, Norah.”
She looks from me to the candles and back again, and then she jerks her head to the side when she sees the painting.
“What is that?” Her voice is a whisper.
“It’s you,” I say simply. “It’s what I feel, what I see, what my heart says when you’re around.”
She licks her lips. “It’s beautiful.”
“You have no idea.”
“Bennett, I don’t understand.” She’s looking at the painting again. “Breezy said—”
“Breezy was doing me a favor to get you here. See, I wasn’t sure you’d answer a phone call directly from me, seeing as I’ve been such a dick and all.” Her eyes jump to mine, and I smile. “Isn’t that what you called me in Earl’s that day?”
“Something like that.” She snorts. “And then you made some crass remark about how big yours is.”
“Yeah, that was pretty bad.” I groan, but I quickly move the conversation toward the whole reason she’s here. “Norah, that day, at the funeral, when you told me you still love me, I should’ve said it too. I love you—and have loved you, I’m pretty sure, since the moment I met you.”
“The moment you met me, you kicked me out of your truck.”
I smirk. “Self-preservation.”
She shakes her head, and I move. Forward and fast, I grab her hand in mine and sink down onto one knee.
Her whole body locks up, and her eyes grow unbelievably wide. “Bennett, what are you doing?”
“Norah Ellis, love of my life, you came blazing in when I thought I needed you the least. You were fancy and fresh, and you had the kind of compassion I didn’t think anyone possessed. You ramble more than almost anyone I know, you are absolutely fucking terrible at coffee, and you’re a pain in the ass fifty percent of the time, but hell, so am I. I want days with you, not without you, and even in my darkest hours, you gave to me without any expectation of anything in return. You loved my daughter like I did, and now, I want to love you like she did. With my whole heart, my whole soul, and my last breath.”