Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Had people actually been camped out, waiting for them to leave?
A security guard approached her with a bottle of champagne on behalf of someone in the crowd and Josephine smiled her thanks. Wells posed for pictures with a family in a rare moment of wholesomeness.
In the midst of the commotion, Josephine traded a glance with Wells and . . . he just looked so happy. Even his frown lines were less prominent than before. Compared to the golfer who’d quit mid-tournament over a month ago, he was a different man. Content. He laughed all the time. As a golfer, he was almost back to where he’d been at his peak, only now he had that relaxed aura of experience and maturity thrown in. He’d grown. With her.
They’d grown together.
She’d let someone else in to share in the ups and downs of her condition and she’d never, ever expected to do that. But Wells made it right.
They were a formidable team.
And she couldn’t leave without knowing how far they could go.
* * *
Wells sat up in bed and looked down at Josephine, tracing the line of her bare shoulder with his gaze before standing reluctantly and heading for the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, set it down, then braced both hands on the counter without drinking a sip.
Something was off with his Josephine—around 10 percent of the time.
The other 90 percent of the days they’d spent together in Miami, she was her usual incredible self. Smiling, challenging him, melting him with her touch, stunning him with incredible insights as they watched old Masters footage in the dark, cuddled up on one recliner and wrapped in a fleece blanket. Quite frankly, Wells would have been more than happy to sit in that home theater listening to Josephine murmur observations in the dark, her hair still half-damp from a bath, for the rest of his time on this earth.
He was so fucking happy, he almost couldn’t withstand the pressure in his chest. It built and it built and it built every time he looked at Josephine.
That 10 percent, though. It ate at him. Big-time.
Every so often, when she didn’t realize Wells was watching, he caught her staring into space. Or lying awake in the dark, tense, when she should have been sleeping. Then there was the fact that she wouldn’t swipe open her phone in his presence. He caught only the tail end of her phone calls to Jim, but she’d hang up before Wells could get the gist of the conversation.
Three times now he’d asked if something was wrong and she’d visibly declined to be honest with him—and that wasn’t like Josephine at all. She was the most honest person he’d ever met in his life. It was one of a billion reasons he’d fallen in love with her.
Maybe she wasn’t in love with him . . . back.
Totally possible. Totally understandable.
Wells couldn’t even fault her for that. He’d probably join an order of monks, take a vow of silence, and go live on a remote goddamn mountaintop if that was the case, but he’d get it.
Or maybe he was just distracting himself with that horrible possibility.
Because deep down, he knew what her 10 percent withdrawal was really about and he needed to stop avoiding it. Or where confronting it would lead.
Wells hung his head and let the dread wash into his stomach.
Then he retrieved his phone from where it was charging in the living room. He stepped out onto his balcony into the balmy Miami breeze, hesitating only a second before calling Jim. It was late, just after eleven, so Josephine’s father sounded concerned when he answered the phone. “Wells? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything is fine. Josephine is fine. She’s sleeping.”
An exhale came down the line. “Good. Okay. What’s up?”
Wells looked out over the Miami skyline, to the ocean beyond, but he wasn’t really seeing any of it. He could see only the beautiful woman asleep in his sheets. His one.
The first and final woman he’d ever love.
“Have you talked to Josephine lately?” Wells asked, deep down already knowing the answer. If he was being honest with himself, he’d been blind to this moment, even though they’d been heading there since day one.
“Sure, I have,” Jim responded, brightly. “Been keeping her in the loop on the construction. Although, I’m not sure you can even call it construction anymore, since the last day and a half has been all about finishing touches. Touchups and whatnot.” Josephine’s father paused, his tone losing some of its enthusiasm. “The place is good and ready for her.”
Wells’s heart dropped into his stomach.
Good and ready.
“Josephine knows that?” Dumb question. Of course, she knew. But he asked it anyway. Maybe to punish himself, because Jesus. The Golden Tee being rebuilt in the shape of Josephine’s dream? It was the thing she was most excited about in this world. And she’d felt the need to keep the news from him. She hadn’t shared her excitement with him. She’d hid it.