Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
It’s enough. Because it’s a new start.
He heads to Brady’s former cabin to take a shower, and I stand at the counter with my phone, searching for the closest and best rehab facilities for gambling addiction.
The soft pad of fuzzy socks registers, and seconds later, the smell of strawberries and champagne floats past me. My whole soul calms down, and a voice in my ear says, “I heard the end of that. I’m so proud of you.”
I don’t waste another second. I turn around, cup her cheeks, and say, “I love you.”
That was terrifying but it was wonderful too. I suppose both things can be true at once. Love can hurt you, and love can heal you.
Before she can answer, I say it again, “I love you so much, Fable. I should have said it last night. I should have said it the night before. I should have said it every second we’ve been here because I was falling in love with you when we walked through that door. And I’ve fallen harder and faster every second I’ve spent with you. I love you,” I say again, unable to stop. “I love you so much. You are extraordinary, and I want to love you that way too. I want you to be mine for real, for today, for tomorrow, for New Year’s Eve, for all the days.”
I wait for her answer.
52
MY TOO MUCH
Fable
“You beat me to it! That’s not fair.” But it’s hard to be mad. Not when I’m overjoyed and bursting with big, scary, incredible feelings.
“Did I now?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“You did. And we’ll have to fight about it,” I say, and I don’t try to hide the happiness that floods my cells.
“I would love to fight with you.”
“You’ve got it because I love you, Wilder Blaine,” I say, making myself vulnerable at last, but he’s worth it. He’s so worth it. “I love you so much, and I came out here this morning determined to find you and to tell you I was ridiculous for saying we should stop. I was so scared of telling you how I felt for real. And I thought you wanted to end things, and I didn’t want you to hurt me, so I chose the coward’s way out,” I admit, finally serving up all my fears.
“I never want to hurt you, honey. I’m sorry I did,” he says, gripping me tighter, holding me closer.
I shake my head. “It was my fault. I wasn’t honest about my feelings.”
“I wasn’t either. It was my fault,” he says, adamant.
And I laugh. “Are we fighting about whose fault it is?”
“Well, you are my favorite sparring partner,” he says, grinning now.
“And you’re mine.” But I’m not done opening up. There’s so much more to tell him. “But it took me a while to say how I felt. I was so terrified that romance would never work out and I hate being vulnerable, and I somehow thought keeping all my feelings locked up would be safer. Then when everything blew up, I just shut down,” I say, and there’s no stopping the train of my emotions now. It’s hurtling down the tracks. “And I was so lonely without you last night, and I was so up in my feelings. But now I want to be up in my feelings with you because I am so in love with you.” I loop my arms tighter around his neck. “Real love, big love, true love. The kind that lasts well beyond all this holiday magic.”
He gathers me even closer in his arms. “Good. Because that’s what you’re getting with me. You’re getting this year round.”
I could squeal. I could scream in happiness. He is too much. But he is my too much. I drop my mouth to his and kiss him hard, clasping his face, stroking his stubble.
Our kiss feels like coming home for the holidays. It feels like extravagant romance. And like true love, which sums up this man.
Only, I can’t rely simply on touch to communicate. I need to use words. More words. I break the kiss. “For so long I thought that if I let someone in they’d hurt me. That’s what I saw growing up. That people walk all over you when you let them in.” I draw a deep, comforting breath of him—the fading scent of snow and cedar. “But you proved the opposite. You showed me from the start what it’s like to be treated…” I pause, wanting to make sure the next thing doesn’t sound cocky, but instead self-assured. “The way I deserve.”
His smile is warm as he strokes my face. “You deserve the best, Fable.”
“And you give your best. All the time.” I play with the ends of his hair. “It took me a while to believe it was real. And not just you being your very excellent self.”