Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Screw convenient.” Using his thumb, he tilted my face toward his. His eyes were deadly serious. “Stand your ground. I’m proud of you, boss. I don’t mind heading back early.”
“You don’t?” I did. I’d been having the time of my life. Absolutely three of the best days. Core memory after core memory and all that. But what if he wasn’t? Was he relieved I wanted to go back to LA? Perhaps that was what he’d left unsaid.
“Nah. We can go whenever you need. This has been fun and all, but it’s time to return to the real world.”
“Oh.” My heart sank back to the sun-scored grass beneath us. As per my long pattern, I was undoubtedly falling far harder and faster than him, which sucked. I exhaled hard and tried to use the amazing vista beneath us to steady myself. He put an arm around me, tugging me closer. That helped too.
“After all, you’ve got an empire to run.”
“I do.” He had a point, and when he held me like this, it was easier to believe I could possibly have him and the show. As much as I might like to, I couldn’t hide out with him forever. “Maybe not an empire, precisely, but I’ve got a dream to defend and a lot of people counting on me.”
“Yeah.”
“I think with the wedding trip and then being here, I started to lose perspective. Like you said, sometimes you have to climb to see the bigger picture. It was nice not having to worry about fans hassling me or production details.”
“It’s called a vacation.” He chuckled kindly. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“No, but I forgot about what I owe the story. That, even more than the fans. I forgot about my vision for the character. The show…it’s more than a show.”
“I know. And that’s why you’re the perfect person to defend it.” He kissed the side of my head.
“Thanks.” I leaned against him, absorbing his strength and sweetness.
“You might play a hipster lumberjack, but you’re a damn creative genius. If you think the show’s worth saving and worth fighting for, it is.” He stared off at the mountains. Perhaps the show wasn’t the only thing worth fighting for. I could live a hundred lifetimes and never meet another guy who moved me like this, who made my heart so full, my hands steady with the conviction that he was worth my courage.
“I love how you believe in me.” Taking his hand, I held him tight until he shifted and pointed at the ladder.
“Eh. You’re easy to believe in. And now I believe you can write a killer email. Better get it sent before the storm rolls in and knocks out the signal.”
“Good point.” I reluctantly hefted myself up and climbed back down to earth. I wrote my email, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d left part of my heart on the roof with Harley.
That feeling lingered through a late lunch and much of the afternoon until my phone dinged, the spotty service cooperating for once. I wiggled in the hammock we’d been sharing to pull out my phone. And sure enough, it was from the studio.
“Wow. A reply already.” I licked my parched lips. “Day after tomorrow, they’ll meet me at the studio in the morning.”
“That’s good news, right?” Harley shifted in the hammock, nap time apparently done as he adjusted us so we could both exit the hammock without ending up in a heap on the ground. “We’ll head back tomorrow then.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I stood.
“Don’t be. This is what you need to do.” He gave me a one-armed hug before collecting our iced tea glasses from the ground. “The fast response means they might listen to you.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t help my lengthy sigh. “But being here has been…special.”
“It has.” Juggling the glasses and a snack plate, he still managed to smile warmly at me. But I noted that he didn’t offer a return invite or future plans. He’d said he wanted to see me in LA, but suddenly, that seemed very tenuous.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ambrose
Dinner felt somber. We worked together, same as we had most meals here, making chicken and vegetable skewers, but Harley was quieter, more focused on his chopping, less joking about my need to plate everything just so. Even the dog seemed more subdued as we ate at the small indoor table. The sky was already dark and foreboding.
“The chicken came out great, but you still owe me your famous steak.” I tried to tease, but it came out more plaintive.
“I do.” His smile had droopy edges.
“I have a grill. And a pool.” Good lord, I’d had more game for asking guys out at twenty-two than I did now in my forties.
“Luckily, I can swim.” Harley matched my matter-of-fact tone. “Is that a dinner invite?”
“Yes.” Oh, thank goodness for him cutting through all my hedging. I offered a grateful smile. “Come over for dinner and a swim after my meeting? Too soon?”