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)
My face almost cracked from the width of my smile. I caught Maggie’s eye again, giving her the thumbs-up. She was still clapping and calling out for me. I leaned closer to the mic. “Thanks, everyone. Really. I have one more for you.” I paused, taking in a much-needed breath, finally saying the words I felt every single day. “This one is for my girl. The love of my life. Maggie, it’s all because of you.” I met her teary gaze steadily. “I love you, Angel.”
She clasped her hands to her chest, allowing the tears to run down her cheeks. “I love you,” she mouthed.
I began to play the song I’d written for her. The bar was full, the place becoming silent as I sang, but there was only her.
Only us.
I sang her the story of my love.
We were wrapped around each other as tight as possible. Not even a breath of air could slide between our heated bodies. After we’d left the bar and come home, we’d made love most of the night physically, while our voices spoke of it out loud. Hearing her say the words she had mouthed drove me to a frenzy, while mine were met with her sweet acceptance and gentle strength. I couldn’t get enough of her, barely giving her time to sigh my name before I was on her again. The response to my music, to me, was like adrenaline to my body, and I was wound tighter than a spring.
The sun was already beginning its slow ascent when I finally pulled back, our sweat-soaked skin separating in a slow sound of protest. The stars were fading, giving way to morning, as I collapsed beside Maggie, tugging her close.
“Is that what always happens when you sing?” she asked, the question innocuous yet filled with an undercurrent.
“No,” I assured her, pressing a kiss to her head. “Only when I sing for you.”
“Okay, then.” She sighed. “Sing away.”
“Finn wants me to take over the Saturday night time slot. Every Saturday. He’ll pay me extra for it so I’m not losing out on tips. He says he’ll even pay me more if I draw in bigger crowds.”
“That’s awesome!”
I nodded. “He says I can do a few open mic nights too, if I want.”
“Sebastian, that is so great.” She enthused, pressing a kiss to my scruff. “I knew once he heard you, he would see how talented you are.”
“You did this. You made all this happen.” I waved my hand around the room. “You gave me a whole new life.”
She buried her face into my neck, and I felt the heat of her blush. Slipping my hand under her chin, I lifted her face to mine. “I love you so much, Angel. I don’t even have enough words to express it.”
“I love my song.”
“I have lots of songs inside to write for you.”
She smiled, bending her face down and kissing my hand. “I already love them all.”
I gathered her closer, wondering how I got so lucky. I knew every time I witnessed another snowstorm, I would remember the one that brought me to her. I pulled the blanket up over us. “Sleep, pretty girl. I’ve kept you up most of the night.”
“Hmm… You did,” she hummed. “We’re going to sleep away most of the day.”
“My father would find that wasteful.”
“Your father can fuck off,” she mumbled.
I burst out laughing, feeling her shake with mirth at her own words.
“Okay, Angel of mine with the foul mouth. Sleep.”
I stood back, nodding in pride as I shoved my hammer into my tool belt. Eleanor’s latest project was almost finished. The desk and built-in shelving unit in her “hobby room” were done. Tomorrow, I would paint them, add the trim, and the room would be complete. The new floor I installed was safe under the layer of plastic, and by the weekend, she would be busy crafting stuff in this room. I really had no idea what she’d be doing, but she was excited about it. So was Maggie, who I found out enjoyed “crafting” as well.
Who knew?
Eleanor appeared in the doorway, clapping her hands in glee as she opened the unit’s doors and exclaimed her excitement over her rolling shelves and baskets I installed. The long cupboards with hanging rods were perfect for her fabrics and notions, she informed me. I grinned at her, having no idea what she was going on about, but happy I’d made what she wanted.
She threw her arms around me. “Thank you!”
I patted her back, still a little shy about her enthusiastic displays of affection. “You’re welcome.”
She pouted a little. “Mrs. Hammond’s place is next?”
I laughed at her displeasure. “She’s been waiting, Eleanor. I promised her kitchen reno would be done this month.”
“But I’m next?”
I shook my head. “Your new steps will happen after Mrs. Adams’s porch.” I huffed a sigh. “Things will go faster when Chris gets here.”