Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Lilah wondered if her fear and uncertainty—combined with her relative lack of experience—had served to heighten her reaction to his every caress. It was a pretty bit of self-deception, allowing herself to believe such nonsense, but it saved both her pride and her conscience. Because she’d certainly felt guilt about enjoying what had been a transcendent life-affirming act even while her grandfather lay dying thousands of miles away.
She and Ben hadn’t discussed it since, and she hoped they never would. She knew she’d implied they might repeat the act if he wore protection, but the whole thing had left her feeling vulnerable and raw and it was better if they never slept together again.
She checked her reflection one more time, this time noticing her puffy, red-rimmed eyes and her wan paleness beneath her healthy tan. But that couldn’t be helped and she threw back her shoulders and left the room to find her best friend.
Blake’s astute gaze missed nothing as Ben dithered around Lilah for a few endless moments.
“I forgot to tell housekeeping to stock those chocolate digestive biscuits you like,” he told Lilah, a frown flirting with the furrow between his brows. “And we’re out of your favorite tea.”
Unsurprising, Lilah thought wryly, considering the many cups she’d consumed over the last ten days.
“Trudy”—his housekeeper—“assures me it will be restocked by the end of the day. Meanwhile, if you need anything, just uh—well… I’ll be in my study—so knock, I suppose.” He was hovering like an over-protective granny and it was both unsettling and endearing.
“We’re fine,” Lilah told him firmly, and he took a hesitant step back, appearing reluctant to just turn away and leave. “Ben, I’m okay. Honestly.”
His brow settled into the heavy frown that had been threatening moments ago and he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, still hesitant.
“Okay. Good.” Another probing stare into her face, before he made a sound in the back of his throat, pivoted on his heel, and left.
“Wow, that was… Who even was that?” Blake asked with an amused snort and Lilah, staring at the space Ben had just occupied, found herself wondering the same thing.
What on earth was that about?
“He’s been concerned,” she found herself explaining to Blake, while not even certain herself what was going on with Ben.
“I know,” Blake said with a nod. “He said as much when he asked me to come around.”
“Ben asked you to come?”
Blake grimaced and got up, coming over to enfold Lilah in a warm hug, which Lilah returned gratefully, the ever-lurking tears once again surging into her eyes and scalding a path down her cheeks. She’d needed this, she hadn’t even realized how much until this very moment.
“I’m glad he did,” Blake said. “I’ve been meaning to come, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready for visitors yet. I guess I was waiting for you to call. But I should have known better. I know you; you’re always trying to put on a brave face, trying to disguise your pain.”
“And you’re not a visitor,” Lilah chastised, tears thickening her voice. “You’re family, you never need an invitation to see me.”
Still, she was grateful that Ben had contacted her friend. It showed a level of sensitivity and care for Lilah’s emotional needs that she hadn’t believed him capable of.
Blake dragged her to the sofa and they sat down next to each other, Blake holding onto her hands as she turned to face her. She searched Lilah’s face, those inquisitive, alert eyes not missing a thing.
“You haven’t been sleeping,” she said.
“Not much,” Lilah admitted.
“Ben told me you haven’t been eating much either.” She ran a worried glance over Lilah’s slender frame and her hands tightened around Lilah’s.
“Lile, you have to eat.”
“I know. But I haven’t had much of an appetite since he died, Blake. I’ve tried but I can’t. I just keep thinking about how Gramps will n-never e-enjoy another m-meal again and—”
“You can’t think like that,” Blake told her sternly. “And Uncle Cyrus of all people would hate to see you make yourself ill. You know that.”
“I know that,” Lilah acknowledged with a grimace. “I do. But I miss him so much. I used to call him every day, at three, like clockwork and we’d have a catch up.”
Oh, God, here came the tears again. She tried to stifle them but they were unavoidable.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled behind her handkerchief and Blake made a tsking sound.
“You cry if you need to, sweetie,” Blake said, her hand stroking Lilah’s back. “I’m right here.”
It was something of a relief to spend a few vulnerable moments in Blake’s undemanding and unjudgmental presence. Her friend held her while she wept, making soothing little noises as she ran a hand up and down Lilah’s back.
“Better?” Blake asked a few minutes later, when the immediate storm had passed and Lilah nodded, wiping her eyes self-consciously.