Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
“Oh, terrified,” I reply, leaning closer as if confessing a secret. I can see her smiling now out of the corner of my eye.
In one fluid motion, I tilt toward her, a subtle shift until our faces are just inches apart. The world narrows, the dramatic screams and ominous sound effects on the screen fading into nothingness as I close the gap, kissing her gently.
Her response is immediate, a soft sigh escaping as she melts against me, her body fitting perfectly beside mine. Remi’s hand finds its way across my chest, fingers trailing down the front, leaving a line of fire.
Her lips are soft and inviting, even better than my fantasies. I lose myself in her taste and the feeling of her soft body pressed tight against mine. Before things go too far, I force myself to pull back. When we finally pause for breath, she flashes me a smile that could light up any room. “You have no idea what’s happening in the movie, do you?”
“Honestly?” I raise an eyebrow, completely unfazed by the revelation. “Not a clue.”
“Good.” She chuckles and snuggles into my side. “Because I have no idea either.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to watch it again,” I suggest as a light bulb goes off over my head. “What do you think about us trying it again every night until we get it right?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” she readily agrees as I make plans to win her heart. “Plus, we need to decorate your house for Christmas.”
“Decorate?” I usually don’t bother since it’s only me.
“This gorgeous house needs Christmas decorations!” Her stunning eyes light up as she claps her hands together. “I freaking love to decorate for Christmas.” She laughs before adding. “And Easter, and Fourth of July, and Halloween.”
If decorating for holidays makes her happy, I’ll turn my house into a goddamn holiday showcase for her year-round.
Chapter 4
Remi
Unpacking my life from cardboard boxes feels like crawling through a time capsule that’s been shoved into a blender. It takes the whole week to find a place for all my things. I’ve managed to free most of my essentials from their cardboard prisons, and the rest of my belongings are tucked away in storage.
I’ve gotta say, taking two weeks off work was a brilliant move on my part. I’ve sidestepped work stress while wading through movers and packing peanuts, giving myself the luxury of breathing room between chaos.
Then there’s Piers.
I’ve spent every evening since the barbecue with him. It’s like there’s a gravitational pull between us, and I have no ability to resist it. Piers, with his easy charm and takeout cartons, has become the highlight of my evenings.
He even went out and bought enough Christmas decorations to decorate all of Silver Spoon Falls.
We’ve fallen into this routine of decorating, laughter, movies, and takeout. Yet, amidst all these stolen moments, a thought gnaws at me quietly and I wonder why he isn’t making a move. It’s like he danced up to the line last week with that kiss and then decided to set up camp right there.
Tonight’s scene is no different. I’m determined to get answers, or at least test the waters. We’re lounging on one of his lush, heated recliners after spending the afternoon decorating his gorgeous home. A horror flick plays on the giant screen, its shadows dancing across the room, but I’m more consumed by the comfortable closeness we share than any monster on the screen.
As the movie plays on, Piers inches closer, engrossed in the story. I steal glances, more absorbed in his reactions than the plot twists. The blue glow of the screen highlights the contours of his face, and I find myself tracing the lines from memory. Has he always had such strong shoulders? Focus, Remi.
I clear my throat to break the spell. He turns toward me, the curiosity lighting up his eyes intermixed with a bit of guarded playfulness. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks casually, but I can tell he senses the shift in me.
I shoot him a direct look, tossing out my question with all the subtlety of a hammer. “Why haven’t you made a move? A real move, I mean. You kissed me to within an inch of my life last week and then nothing?”
For a moment, his expression shifts, and there's a flicker of surprise before it settles into a slow, almost coy grin. “I’ve been making moves left and right,” he counters with a touch of humor, “in my mind.” He sighs, admitting, “I didn’t want to rush things and scare you off.”
“I’m not scared.” I sigh as relief and happiness flow through me. “And I want you to rush.”
He leans back and stares at me as the air between us crackles. “Once I make you mine, I’ll never let you go,” he responds, dead serious.