Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
I have two choices: to give up completely, or to try with Stian.
I swallow, hard. “I’m scared. But I want you so damn much.”
“Älskling.” He kisses me hard, his lips slanting against my own, and then folds me in his arms and holds me tightly. His body around mine is so big and strong, and I lean into him, letting the bliss of his embrace overwhelm me.
When we part, he cups my face in his hands and rubs his thumb across my cheek. “You’re not alone with this. I will help you.”
“She’s out of her box this time,” I tell him. “She’s going to fight, and it’s not going to be easy, for either of us. Are you prepared for that?”
Stian smiles his gentle smile. “I’m sure, because this time she’s out and flying too, isn’t she? Hope.”
I bury my face in his shoulder. He’s right. I can finally feel the brush of her wings, very faintly. And maybe, just maybe, I can feel her getting stronger.
“When was the last time you had any proper rest?” he murmurs into my hair.
“So long.”
“Come on. Lie down with me for a bit.”
Fully clothed, we lay on the narrow bed. “Tómr ok munu,” he whispers. “Slow and sure. I knew that if I was patient, I’d find my way back to you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, staying away, but you were never gone from me. I could sense you, always, like a needle pointing the way home.”
Tears blur my eyes, and I whisper. “Through the storm.”
The warmth of his body surrounds me, and the beat of his heart against my ear is more soothing than a lullaby. My eyes drift closed.
I wake up sometime later and find that Stian’s still in my single bed with me, his arms wrapped around me. He’s fallen asleep, too. We must both have needed some rest. I let my eyes travel over the planes and angles of his handsome face, remembering everything he said to me.
As I nestle closer in his arms, he makes an mmm sound, and his eyes open.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper to him. “I think I’ll be a little bit afraid all my life, but I want to try.”
He reaches out and strokes a forefinger gently down the bridge of my nose. “So do I. And I always will.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stian
“Would you like to spend the afternoon at my house?” I ask her. “Just a few hours. I’ll bring you back before dinnertime.”
She snuggles closer to me and whispers, “Yes please, daddy. That would be lovely.”
I smile down at her, warmth expanding through my chest. “You still want to call me that?”
“I want all the things we had together before. Do you?”
“Yes I do, my little bonsai.” I glance at my watch. “All right, it’s just after one o’clock. How about I drop home for a bit, and come back to collect you after lunch. It must be time for you to eat.”
She nods and sits up, a determined expression on her face. Her hair is in tangles and her pajamas are wrinkled. She’s never looked more beautiful.
I kiss her mouth and tell her I’ll be back in an hour and a half, and head down the stairs. Mrs. Petrou looks at me expectantly as I come down the stairs.
“Back shortly,” is all I say with a smile, and head out to my car.
There’s not much for me to do at home and I can’t settle to any reading. I fidget with things in the living room, feeling like a teenager having a girl around for the first time, wondering what she’s going to think of me.
At a quarter past two, I get back in my car and drive back to Lacey’s. She’s waiting for me by the letterbox, wearing a dress and jacket and with her hair brushed and waving in the breeze.
She gets in with a lunchbox in her hand. “It’s my dinner. I thought maybe I could try eating it in the greenhouse tonight, if I may?”
“Of course you may. You don’t even have to ask.”
When we get to the house, we store her lunchbox in the fridge, and I take her out into the back garden. I have six new bonsai to show her. I’ve had a lot of frustrated time on my hands lately.
“This was a beautiful pink azalea over the summer,” I say, running my finger over a bare branch. “She was my favorite.”
Lacey’s wearing a pink dress. When she presses close to me, I trace the neckline with the same finger. Her lips part as she looks up at me, but I turn and point out a Japanese maple.
We end up laying on the grass in the last of the afternoon sunshine, me teaching her the rudiments of Swedish grammar. It quickly devolves into her trying to roll her Rs, and me trying to make the th sound, and us laughing at each other.