Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Hey, Izzy.” My gaze devoured her, taking in the loose sweep of her hair up to the bun she wore, a few strands of the honey blonde falling around her face, and the curve of her soft lips. I needed to lean across the small barrier between our seats and kiss the shit out of her. I’d missed her more than I’d let myself realize.
“Hey, Nate,” she said softly, scanning over my features like she was looking for new scars, new injuries to catalog. There were none where she could see.
“You’ve been crying.” My stomach tightened.
She nodded.
“Want to talk about it?” All she had to do was tell me who to kill, and they’d be dead.
“I broke up with someone I liked.” She shrugged. “This trip wouldn’t have been fair to him. I don’t regret it. It was the right choice.” She fastened her seat belt and reached for my hand, locking our fingers.
It was hard to breathe under the weight of guilt of knowing I was the reason she was hurting, but with the simple touch of her hand in mine, I was home.
“Izzy,” I whispered, unable to put my feelings to words as pain settled in my chest. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her from pain, even if it meant I wasn’t her choice. “You didn’t have to. And you don’t have to come now. You can walk off this plane, and there will be no hard feelings.”
“But I did have to break up with him.” She sighed, leaning back and turning so her cheek rested against the seat as she looked at me. “Because it didn’t matter how much I liked him. I would rather spend a week with you than a lifetime with him. That wasn’t fair to either of us, you know?”
I thought about the relationships I’d ended because I knew I’d be seeing Izzy soon, or because I’d realized that nothing compared to the way I felt around her.
“Yeah. I know.” The pain in my chest expanded, and I picked up her hand, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of the back of it. I would make it up to her. I had to.
The water lapped at our feet twenty-four hours later as we walked down the deserted beach. We’d flown, then flown again, then passed out side by side once we’d reached our overwater bungalow that had cost me more than I even wanted to think about.
I slept my first full night in what felt like years, and waking up beside her, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, was the closest I’d ever been to heaven.
Or maybe that was right now, watching her smile down at the water, the sun kissing her bare shoulders in her sundress.
“So, what are you thinking for next year?” she asked.
“We haven’t even been here a full day and you’re asking about next year?” I slipped my hand into my pocket, fumbling with the little box I’d brought along. “I’m still thinking about renting those WaveRunners or going for a hike later.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned up at me. “It gives me something to look forward to. I mean, it took us two years just to get here, so who knows how long it will take us to get another trip.”
“Solid point.” I glanced around at the beauty of the island, the lush vegetation, pale sand, and aqua waters that no picture could capture. “I’m still surprised we made it here.”
“Me too.” She glanced down my torso, her gaze heating in a look that made me wish we’d stayed in the bungalow. Not that I was making any assumptions. I’d happily keep my hands in my pockets if that meant I’d have a week with her. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “What’s that?” She trailed a fingertip down a scar barely visible in the sleeve of my tattoo.
Of course she’d noticed. I couldn’t get anything by Izzy. Whether or not she chose to ask, to open topics I didn’t want to discuss, to poke for answers, she noticed.
“Nothing to worry about,” I assured her.
She shot an arched brow at me.
“It was a piece of shrapnel.” I shrugged. “Right around when I went back after Mom’s—” I swallowed, and her gaze jumped to meet mine. “It was really nothing. Four stitches and some antibiotics.”
Her lips pursed, and her grip on my arm shifted so she could run her thumb over it. “I feel like you have more of these every time I see you.”
“That’s because I do.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Her hand fell away, and her face fell.
“It’s my job.” And if what I did over there made it even slightly safer for her to sleep at night, then it was worth it.