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)
“Ironic. Is that where the night ended?”
“No, as it happens. When the tour was over, I was so worried I might ruin everyone’s good time with my freak-out that I doubled down and did two shots of tequila, just to show everyone that I was having a good time. And that I wasn’t worried the ghosts had followed us from the graveyard—even though I really was. Literally, I was checking over my shoulder the whole night. But bottom line, the tequila kicked in and I ended up flashing a police horse. With a policeman on top.”
Wells shook his head slowly. “There are so many twists and turns in this story, my neck is going to be sore. Tell me you didn’t get arrested for that.”
“Not in New Orleans, no. I just got beads.”
“From the officer?”
“No, the horse. But that could have been the weed talking.”
Wells had to bury his face in the crook of his arm to keep his laugh from waking up the whole damn resort. “That might be the greatest story I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t until she glanced behind her, and down, that Wells realized he’d been rubbing her lower back in a circle the whole time she’d been speaking. Now, in the silence, she moved closer to him and he thought, Yes, more kissing, but she surprised him by laying the side of her face on his shoulder, instead. What was the feeling that swept through his chest like a storm wind? Some sort of combination of protectiveness and . . . gratitude that she felt relaxed and secure enough with him to use him as a pillow.
A series of beeps went off in his gym shorts—and her pajama pants.
Her blood sugar must be low.
Josephine lifted her head, her attention swinging from his pocket up to his eyes. “You downloaded the app and accepted my follow request? You didn’t have to, you know.” Worry clouded into the green of her eyes. “It beeps constantly. Like, it never ends—”
He kissed her.
It happened without any critical thought involved. Kissing her was like the words to a favorite song. He simply knew the lyrics.
“Of course I followed you in the app, belle. Soon as I got to my room last night and turned my hoodie the right way around.” Chest tight, he reached into the opposite pocket of his shorts and fished out the roll of glucose tabs he’d put there, handing them to her wordlessly.
She stared at them for a beat before taking them. “You’re carrying tabs?”
Wells rolled his neck, praying his behavior wasn’t overkill. It’s not like he’d even expected to see her this morning. He was just trying to get into the habit of carrying them, so he would never forget.
Josephine still seemed to be at a loss for words. “You just . . . did that? And you didn’t make a big deal out of it.” Uncapping the tube, she popped two purple disks into her mouth, chewing slowly. “Thank you, Wells. Really.”
Ask me to walk on broken glass next. Watch me not even hesitate. Those sentiments wanted to dive out of his mouth, but he followed his gut when it came to this woman and he sensed, he always sensed, that she didn’t like to dwell on the topic of diabetes too long. “Who makes you dance? Prince? Madonna. The Weeknd?”
A grin slowly shaped her mouth. “Nope. And stop trying to catch me off guard.”
“It’s only a matter of time before I figure it out.”
“Keep dreaming.”
As carefully as possible, so he wouldn’t dislodge her cheek or cause her to sit up straight again, Wells put his arm around Josephine’s shoulder. After a few minutes of silence, he looked down to find her eyes closed, her breathing deep and even. Was she sleeping?
Yeah. She was.
On him.
He allowed himself a moment of stunned pride before he gently lifted Josephine into his lap, turned, got onto his knees, and stood. He carried her to the row of white plastic lounge chairs arranged near the perimeter of the pool area and sat down, leaning back and closing his eyes with his caddie in his arms. Doing his best to memorize the feeling of her before his own eyelids grew heavy, as well. Just before he fell asleep, the most absurd thought occurred to him. What if the problem that morning hadn’t been their inability to sleep?
What if they’d been unable to sleep . . . apart?
Chapter Eighteen
The first two days of the tournament had been a roller coaster ride . . . if the roller coaster was on fire, and also got stuck upside down. Yet somehow day three ended up being the most remarkable of all. Wells shot his best round in two years. Over the course of the morning and afternoon, the crowd that followed Wells and Josephine from hole to hole grew bigger, more boisterous. A little while after that, the cheering started. They were actually rooting for Wells.