Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
When we’re seated a few minutes later, Jace’s eyes meet mine from across the table. “I know I told you over the phone, but I’m really fucking sorry about Val. He was a good guy.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, feeling Elora move her hand to my thigh, and the tension that had instantly wrapped around me at the mention of Val loosens.
“What are your plans while you’re here in town?” Penny asks, looking at Elora.
“I want to walk across the bridge,” she answers, glancing up at me quickly as I wrap my arm around her just to have her closer. “What do you recommend we do while we’re here?”
“You definitely need to take a boat over to Alcatraz, and you have to have a sourdough bowl with clam chowder from Boudin’s down by the water.” She looks between the two of us. “We would also love to have you guys over to our house for dinner before you leave.”
“Roman pointed out where you live when we were driving across the bridge coming into San Francisco. Your view must be breathtaking.”
“It is, so you have to add seeing Goldie from the beach in front of our house when she’s lit up at night to your list of things to do while you’re in town.”
“We would love that,” Elora says softly, leaning into me. As dinner continues, the girls talk about Penny’s job as a teacher and a little about why Elora and I have been traveling while Jace and I catch up. It’s odd to see him so content and hear him talk about possibly selling his company so he can enjoy his family after Penny gives birth to their baby.
He and I have known each other for years, and I’ve never seen him so happy. And I know that happiness doesn’t have anything to do with his multimillion dollar company or any of the shit he owns. It has to do with the woman at his side. A woman he wasn’t looking for when he found her.
As we’re walking out of the restaurant after finishing dinner, Elora’s laughter hits my ears, and when I look down at her just in time to catch the beautiful smile on her face, I get it. Because nothing else seems as important as being able to hear her laugh and see her smile.
For the first time in my life, I think about what I want in the future, the family I might someday have, and my life outside of my business.
“You good, man?”
The quiet question from Jace has me coming out of my head, and I focus on him. “Never been better.”
That truth is a hard pill to swallow because I know what led me to this moment, what led me to Elora, and the future I’m now thinking about.
“You know I’m here, even if you just want to get a beer to catch up.” He takes my hand and pulls me in for a one-arm hug.
“I appreciate that.” I pat his back, then let him go and find Elora’s hand after she hugs Penny.
“Let us know about dinner.” Jace’s wife smiles, looking back and forth between the two of us.
“We will,” Elora replies, then leans into my side, and I let go of her hand to slide my arm around her back.
We stand like that as we watch the two of them walk toward the front doors of the hotel.
“I really like them.”
“Yeah.” I drop my eyes to hers, then bend my head down to touch my lips to hers. “How are your feet doing?”
“They hurt.” She laughs, and I grin.
“You want a piggyback ride up to the room?”
She looks around at the people mingling, then shakes her head.
“Come on.” I let her go and turn my back to her. “Hop on.”
“Roman.”
“Elora.” I look at her over my shoulder, and she sighs before hiking the slit of the skirt up a little, then putting her hands on top of my shoulders. When she jumps onto my back, I ignore the people watching and grasp her thighs as her arms come over to hang loose around my neck. I listen to her bouncing laughter as I not only carry her but gallop toward the elevator. And I don’t let her go until we get to the door of our room.
Two days later, I stand on the beach with my arms crossed over my chest, watching Elora with her head tipped back as she takes in the Golden Gate Bridge and the lights reflecting off the fog that started rolling in after the sunset. When she looks over her shoulder, and her eyes meet mine, I know exactly what she’s thinking.
This is the spot.
For the past two days, she’s carried around the small bottle of her mom's ashes as we traveled across the bridge, to the piers down by the water, lunch at Boudin’s, the boat ride to Alcatraz and the tour of the old prison, and the never-ending hills we walked up and back down as we explored the city. So much walking that each night, by the time we got back to the hotel, we fell exhaustedly into bed. At no point did she ever give me the look she just gave me or even touch the pocket where I know she’s kept the bottle.