Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I smirked.
“Seriously, though,” Tyler said, running the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “I think most of what was standing in our way wasn’t Jacob or Azra or Morgan or anyone else. It was us.”
I nodded, closing my eyes when he pressed his lips to mine again. “We’ve wasted so much time,” I whispered. “Put ourselves through so much pain.”
“I guess some lessons are learned the hard way.”
I nodded again, with my forehead pressed against his, my arms looped around his neck. “So, what now?”
Tyler grinned, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “I was thinking we could spend the rest of our lives making up for lost time.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, feigning nonchalance as my heart galloped in my chest.
“Yeah. What do you think about that?”
“I think the rest of our lives won’t even be enough.”
At that, Tyler kissed me, slow and soft and sure, and then he whispered, “Then let’s stay together forever after that, too.”
3 Years Later
Tyler
My wife couldn’t possibly be any hotter.
Jasmine was stretched out in the oversized hammock that hung above Tahiti’s crystal-clear, turquoise waters, platinum hair in a messy bun on her head, dark sunglasses shielding her face. She held a romance book in her hands — one she’d started reading on the plane ride here — and every now and then, she’d reach over for the orange and pink frozen drink on the deck, moving the tiny umbrella in it aside to take a sip.
She looked like a goddess, with the mountains stretching up behind her in the distance, palm trees waving in the breeze along the beach. She had her long legs crossed, polished toes tapping along to the steel drum in the distance, and her tan skin was ablaze against her skimpy white bikini.
If we didn’t have our own private hut on the water, I’d have had a big problem with that bikini, because the thong exposed her perfect little ass and the strapless top just barely covered her chest. As it was, she was on display for my eyes only, and I rather enjoyed the view.
I took my time making my way outside, letting my eyes wander over the plush canopy bed that was still a mess from us the night before and swiping my sunglasses off the bedside table. The teak wood was warm on my bare feet as I padded across the balcony, and I leapt into our private pool right next to the hammock, tucking my legs into my chest for the optimal splash.
When I emerged to find my wife glaring at me over the soggy pages of her book, I knew I’d succeeded.
My wife.
God, I’d never get tired of that.
We’d wasted so much time being apart, years of pretending what happened between us was nothing, a mistake we were both trying to forget. But the minute she showed back up in New England for my sister’s wedding, I knew we’d both been lying to ourselves.
I think I knew, even on that first night when I watched her eating dinner with my family for the first time in seven years, that she’d be mine. It didn’t matter that I was taken at the time, or that she was, too. Just being back in the same room had ignited a flame inside me that I’d tried to convince myself had long been extinguished.
The truth was that it never could be.
Those two weeks were hellish. I tried to stay away from her, tried to leave her alone, but no matter how I convinced myself that I was doing everything I could to give her space, I somehow found myself in the same room as her, no matter where she was. And I made up every excuse in the book to spend time with her — like being in the kitchen when I knew that’d be her first stop after her morning run, or forcing her to rest when she lost her voice and jumping at the opportunity to stay back with her, or taking her for a run on my favorite trail.
Every time I had a wake-up call in the form of her boyfriend reminding me that he existed, I’d find a renewed urgency to stay away from her.
But it never lasted long.
And once we finally admitted what we’d been feeling all along, once I’d had her? I knew I’d never be able to let her go again.
We’d wasted a lot of time — too much time — and I’d spend the rest of my life making up for those moments lost.
“Jerk,” Jasmine said through a pouty laugh, laying the book out to dry beside her drink. “I was just getting to a good part!”
“A sex scene?”
“Maybe.”
“We can make one of our own, instead,” I offered.
She smiled, and even though her eyes were covered by sunglasses, I knew she was rolling them. Still, she crawled out of the hammock, grabbing her drink and taking a seat on the edge of the pool. As soon as her legs were in the water, I was between them, grabbing her hips and kissing her possessively.