Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“I have an oversized sweatshirt you can wear,” I say, starting toward the circular staircase leading up to the bedroom on the third floor. “And Uncle Clint might have left an old pair of jeans or something in his armoire. I’ll check as soon as I change and bring whatever I find down for you to try on in the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” he says, watching me climb the stairs with heat in his eyes that makes me wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
About the fact that we’ll both be spending the night alone together for the first time in over a decade.
Or the fact that the other two bedrooms in the cabin are currently underwater on the first floor, which means there’s only the one big king bed on the third for us to share.
It’s the place we always chose to snuggle up on cool winter nights, back when we were young and too naïve to realize how rare a love like ours truly was.
But I know now.
And so does Theo.
And tonight, maybe we’ll get to do more than catch up on the news of our lives.
Maybe we’ll get to do a different kind of catching up.
The kind that says a thousand things without a single word…
Chapter Five
THEO
By the time I finish changing into Macy’s giant Smashing Pumpkins concert sweatshirt and a pair of her uncle’s old flannel pajama pants, she’s started a fire in the fireplace and Pippa Jane is happily gulping from a large silver dish by the closed sliding glass door.
“The smoke is going up the chimney,” Macy says, turning to smile at me, making my heart lurch in my chest all over again. It’s just so damned good to see that smile again. “So, I think we’re good to keep the fire going. Luckily, I brought a few loads of wood up last night before I put Pippa to bed. There’s more room to run around and play on this floor, so I thought she’d have more fun hanging out here today if the rain was as bad as they said it was going to be.”
I sigh as I carry my wet clothes over to the side of the fireplace. “Instead, it was ten times worse.”
Her eyes widen. “I know! What the hell? What happened to three to four inches and a slight risk of flooding in low lying areas? It feels like the world’s ending out there. I wouldn’t be surprised to see an ark float by on its way to the ocean.”
I laugh. “I know. But I think the rain is slowing, at least.” I crouch down, spreading my clothes out to dry on the tiles surrounding the fire. “It doesn’t sound as loud on the roof as it did before. I would check my weather app to see if the worst is over, but I lost my phone in the river. It must have been swept out of my pocket when I fell in.”
Her lips turn down and her brow furrows. “Oh no, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s fine.”
“If it’s any comfort, there’s no cell service out here right now anyway. It went out not long after I left that message for you.”
I come to sit beside her, cross-legged on the blanket she’s spread out in front of the fire. “Right. I tried to call you. I should have remembered that.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s hard to remember things when you’re in fight or flight mode.”
“Or make good split-second decisions,” I agree. “In hindsight, I shouldn’t have gone for the backpack. I just thought I had more time before the balcony separated from the house. And I knew we’d need food and water if the rescue took more than a day or two. Things are really bad in town and my friend from the fire department told me they had to put those rescue efforts first.”
“I totally get that. And I’m glad you got the bag, actually.” She motions toward her now socked feet. She’s wearing a pair of oversized pink-and-blue flannel pajamas that swallow her whole but still looks sexy as hell. “I had bandages in my kit, but I didn’t have Neosporin, and I got a pretty bad gash on my foot while I was pulling Pippa out of the water earlier.”
I frown at her feet. “Do you think you need stitches?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. And I’m up-to-date on my tetanus shot in case it was something rusty under there.”
I frown harder. “You want me to take a look? I’m no medical professional, but I’ve bandaged more than my share of baby cousins. It’s not a McGuire family reunion if half a dozen kids don’t skin a knee.”
“No, it’s okay,” she says, a hint of sadness flickering behind her eyes. Before I can ask about it, she brings her hand to rest on my thigh, and I’m suddenly struggling to think of anything but how much I want her back in my arms. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, and no other woman has ever compared to Macy. What we had was so honest, so intense and connected.