Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
But not as dazzling as her…
She’s so beautiful, so poised, even now, when she’s had a day from hell. Hearing about the inspection and the bad news from her lender on the cab ride over made me physically ill. Yes, I can make those problems go away for her, if she’ll let me, but she doesn’t know that. All she knows is that a man she trusted lied to her and her first real estate purchase looks like it’s going to end in complete disaster.
But still, she’s relatively calm and composed.
She’s so much stronger than she gives herself credit for, and I have no doubt that she’s going to do incredible things, with or without me.
But damn, do I want to be there with her, beside her, cheering her on every step of the way.
I hope the surprises I have planned are enough to convince her how sorry I am, and that I have zero plans to lie to her again. If I never see that distant, wounded look in her eyes again, it will be too soon.
“Watch your step,” I murmur, cradling her elbow as we step over the threshold and start down the narrow stairs on the other side. “It’s steeper than it looks.”
She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t pull away, either, which I decide to take as a move in the right direction. When she first came out of the guest room in the dress, I reached for her and she backed away, ripping my heart in two in the process.
I hate that I hurt her, that I made her doubt herself or the connection between us for a single fucking second.
As we move into the bar proper, I vow to do whatever it takes to regain her trust. If tonight isn’t enough, I’ll keep working until I prove myself to her, even if I have to move to Sea Breeze and leave flowers on her doorstep every day. I’m not a big fan of small towns or cold, rocky coastlines—I’m usually a Caribbean man—but for Maya, I’ll learn to love long walks in the freezing Maine air.
It’s been less than a week, and I’d already do just about anything for her. God only knows how quickly things will progress if she agrees to move in with me and give being a couple a try. I’ll probably be proposing by Valentine’s Day.
Inside the bar, the air is alive with flickering, amber light and holiday-infused jazz that floats from hidden speakers. Erté prints line the wall between the mirrors on this side of the room, their art deco figures echoing the Grecian-inspired drape of Maya’s dress. She looks like she belongs here, like she’s a regular at clubs with champagne service that starts at five hundred per bottle. But then, even in her off-the-rack black velvet dress, she held her head high in a room full of multi-millionaires.
Maya knows her own worth, and so do I, which is why I didn’t hesitate to call every close friend I thought I might have a chance in hell of convincing to join me at a secret sex club on a few hours’ notice. Thankfully, my friends are an adventurous lot, and after only a few calls, I had two of my nearest and dearest on Twyla’s special guest list.
I spot Bailey Anne and Harold settled in the corner, beneath an art installation featuring peacock feathers that dangle from the ceiling like willow branches, creating a shelter for the booth beneath. Their heads are bent in conversation, but they look up as we approach.
Bailey Anne’s eyes widen on Maya before flicking to meet mine with a small nod of approval, while Harold beams at us like he’s already imagining our walk down the aisle. But then, Harold’s been trying to set me up for years. He never said anything outright, but I could tell he wasn’t my ex-wife’s biggest fan. As soon as the divorce was final, he shot me an email assuring me that second marriages are always ten times better than the first. He and his second wife have been together for thirty years, a fact he manages to bring up every time we meet for coffee.
But before Maya, I wasn’t ready to date seriously, let alone think about marriage.
Now, however…
I meet Harold’s gaze with a shaky smile, glad my old friend seems to approve. Harold was the CFO at the bank that hired me straight out of college. He taught me everything about office politics that they don’t teach you in school, but he’s always felt as much like a father figure as a mentor.
I was hoping he’d take to Maya nearly as much as I hope she takes to him and to Bailey Anne, my running club friend I’ve known since we were on the same track team in junior high.