Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“What can I do?”
I smiled at her. She had obviously had a shower—her hair was wet and hanging down her back, and she was in a set of warm pajamas with thick socks on her feet. Beneath the socks, her toes wiggled. She looked adorable—and exhausted.
I touched the moving toes. “What’s going on here?” I teased, wanting to make her smile.
“I do that when I’m nervous.”
I bent and kissed her forehead. “Don’t be nervous with me, Maggie. I’ll shower and maybe sleep for a bit, if that’s okay?”
“This is your home now, Sebastian.” She gave me a soft, reassuring smile. “You don’t need my permission.”
Her words made my heart race. Her gentle acceptance made me relax.
She held out her hand, and I took it, following where she led me. The bathroom was still steamy from her shower, and she handed me a towel. Then her nervousness showed again, and she began talking fast.
“I put a pair of sweatpants and a shirt on the counter. I gave them to my dad for Christmas—he obviously never wore then since the tags are still on. They’ll be a little big on you, but at least they’re clean and warm. And you don’t have to be naked. Unless you like to be naked, but I thought you might want to wait for that. At least until you find out that I snore. Because there is nothing less sexy than snoring.” She paused and turned her head to look down the hallway. “I made up the bed in my room for us. It’s a queen, but if you prefer, I can make up the guest room bed too, if you want to sleep alone. ’Cause, again—the snoring thing. Not really snoring but grumbling. I talk and mumble, and my dad used to say I growled. And I have cold feet.” When I looked at her, trying not to laugh at her word vomit, she kept talking. “Anyway, I figured we’d sort of already slept together in the airport…well, not slept, slept together, but whichever you want…”
I held up my hand, smiling a little more now. “I’d like to sleep with you, Maggie. Sleep, sleep, I mean. I liked how you felt all curled into me. I’ll risk the grumbling and the cold feet.” I ran my finger down her very warm cheek. “We’ll move on to the other ‘sleeping together’ part when we’re ready. No rush, my angel.”
“Okay.” She pointed to the door at the end of the hall. “That’s my…um…our room. I’ll be there, waiting.”
Our room.
I liked the sound of that.
“Okay. See you there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SEBASTIAN
I was warm and comfortable when I woke up.
Too warm.
Maggie was curled up tight to my chest, her arm wrapped around my waist, holding me close. I was no better, both my arms draped around her back, my hands buried in her hair.
It should have felt strange. All this intimacy should feel strange. But it didn’t.
After my shower, I walked to the end of the hall where Maggie waited. She was already in bed, and it felt completely natural to lift the blanket and slide in beside her. Reaching over, I flicked off the light, and she nestled beside me. I drew her closer, wanting her warmth.
She had closed the curtains, the dim light shut out, so the room was dark. It wasn’t where I had expected to be today, but it felt good—it felt right.
Emotion hit me as I thought about all that transpired to get me here, and tears burned, hot and heavy on my cheeks. A sob escaped my throat, and Maggie moved up, cradling my head on her chest, soothing me with her touch and quiet voice.
“It’s okay, Sebastian. I’ve got you—let it out.”
“He’s not worth it,” I mumbled, yet unable to stop the damn waterworks.
“He’s your father, Sebastian. Whether or not he’s worth it, of course this would upset you. Just let it out. When you wake up, we’ll start fresh.”
She held me until I fell asleep.
I couldn’t remember ever sleeping so peacefully. It had only been a few hours, but I felt refreshed. I looked down at Maggie—this girl, this perfectly wonderful girl I barely knew—yet I trusted her more than any other person in my life. She offered me a level of faith I wasn’t used to, one I wanted to measure up to. I wanted to give myself to her the way she offered herself to me—freely and without reservations. I wanted her to know me, and I wanted to discover everything that made Maggie Andrews so special. I never wanted her to regret opening her heart to me and asking me to stay with her.
Carefully, I slipped out of bed and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. When I was done, I spent a few minutes looking around upstairs. Her dad’s room was actually a little smaller than Maggie’s, and I grinned, knowing he must have given her the larger room. The third room was about the same size as his but had a great view of the forest behind the house. It would be a perfect place to sit and play music, looking at that view. I went downstairs and rummaged around the cupboards, finding the coffee, the cream in the refrigerator, then spent a few minutes figuring out the coffee machine, finally getting a pot brewing.