Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
He smiles too. “Oh . . . that’s the only one you like?”
I giggle and kiss his big, beautiful lips. His arm comes around me, and I snuggle my head into his chest.
“It’s the way I was so upset that you didn’t want to see me anymore that I ran over your plants with the mower.”
“You had to go ruin it and bring that up . . . didn’t you?” I mutter dryly. “You were going so well.”
He chuckles and kisses my temple and holds me close.
“Don’t let me fuck this up,” he says softly. “Tell me if I get too close to the line.”
“Oh, I will, and for the record, if you ever run over a plant of mine with the mower again, I’m running over you with it.”
“Deal.” He smiles.
We lie in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts.
“Good night, my beautiful Juliet,” he whispers. “Thanks for waiting for me to get here . . .”
My heart swells at his newfound vulnerability. “You were worth the wait.”
Midnight, the magical hour
I lie and stare at the man beside me as he sleeps.
He’s on his back, the white blanket pooled around his lower stomach. His broad naked body is on display.
I watch as his chest rises . . . holds, and then gently falls. I’ve been lying here watching him for two hours. My protective instincts have kicked in, and I just want to care for him. To make him feel loved and safe.
How must it feel to be so traumatized that you can’t let yourself be loved? And his dad is sick too . . .
I feel so sad for him.
I push the hair back from his forehead and kiss him softly.
How is it possible that tonight my attachment to him is deeper than ever?
Is this what it feels like?
Where nothing else matters, and to hell with the consequences. Because there are consequences for being with Henley. I know that.
I’m twenty-seven years old, and at a time when I want to relax into a drama-free and easy relationship, I know this will be anything but. How could it not be? He’s never had a girlfriend, much less a serious relationship, and these things take practice. Years and years of practice. I’m in for a rocky ride.
I lean up onto my elbow, and hope fills me as I smile over at him in the darkness. His dark hair, big eyelashes, and kissable pouty lips. Out of all the men I’ve ever met in my life, Henley James is the one I compare everyone else to.
He’s the set point.
The last few weeks have been a nightmare—for both of us, I now know.
But he’s here with me, revealing his vulnerability and declaring his love.
It’s weird. In reality, we hardly know each other, but our attraction is so deep that it’s cellular. It’s as if my body was always his, as if he was always meant to be mine. He has this special ingredient. Every whispered word, every touch means so much more than it should.
I let out a big yawn and know I need to get some sleep. I roll onto my side, facing away from him, and his hand comes out and pulls me back to be snug against his body, still asleep. He kisses my shoulder blade, and I feel his manhood against my behind, the warmth from his skin.
I smile into my pillow. I think maybe . . . it’s going to be okay.
Chapter 23
I wake to a familiar scent permeating my bedroom, and I frown. What is that?
Pancakes.
Huh? My eyes snap open. What’s happening right now? Has someone broken in to make me food?
I’ve never even woken up with Henley before, let alone had him cook me breakfast. I jump out of bed, throw on my robe, and go in search of my man.
I find him in the kitchen, standing over the frying pan, a tea towel slung over his shoulder as he concentrates. I lean against the doorjamb for a moment and watch him. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and pajama bottoms, and as he flips the pancakes I can see the muscles in his shoulders contract underneath his shirt.
So fucking hot.
He glances up, sees me, and gives me a slow sexy smile. “Good morning, my sweet Juliet.”
His sweet Juliet . . . has there ever been a more swoony good morning in the history of life?
I don’t think so.
I smile goofily. “Good morning, Henley.”
He walks over and puts the spatula down to my sex and flips air.
“What are you doing?” I laugh as I swat him away.
“Flipping my breakfast. What does it look like?”
“You want it done both sides?”
“Only the best are flipped both sides.” He smiles against my lips as he kisses me.
“What are you doing here, Mr. James?” We kiss again as his hands slide up underneath my robe.