Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I swallowed around the knot in my throat, hating that I didn’t have the right words to respond. I thought she’d been living a wild, care-free life traveling across the globe like she always wanted to, but she’d been suffering in ways I couldn’t even imagine.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him. But I’m trying to at least earn back his respect.” She shrugged, taking a sip of her ice water. “Sometimes that seems a harder task than staying sober.”
I flinched. “It shouldn’t be that way with family.”
“VanDorens,” she said in a mocking tone. “Anyway,” she continued, trying to brush off the seriousness of the conversation if her smile was any indication. “Not all his stipulations of earning my way back into the family’s good graces are bad.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “Like what?”
“Working with you for one,” she said. “Working for Lyla for two. I never thought I would enjoy waiting tables as much as I do. Maybe it’s because I’ve never done it before or maybe it’s because I never knew how satisfying a hard day’s work could feel. Either way, that is one thing I don’t regret about this whole process. And my studio apartment is cozy, even if I can barely turn around in it.”
I laughed, trying to protest when she stood up to clear our finished plates. I watched her as she rinsed and put them in the dishwasher, the actions so domestic it made it hard to breathe. It was like I’d fallen into one of my painful fantasies where we lived happily ever after and cleaning up after dinner was a normal, everyday occurrence for us.
“Is there anything you do regret?” I asked her after I stored the leftovers in the fridge.
She leaned against my kitchen island, and I made sure I kept my distance against the counter across from her. “About the stipulations from my father?” she asked, and I nodded. “Not really. Therapy is hard sometimes, even though I know it’s one of the main elements keeping me out of a rehabilitation facility. And as much as I love Dr. Casson, it’s hard to crack open about how you’ve failed your family more times than you can even remember.”
“You’re not a failure,” I said, and she laughed.
“My long line of mistakes begs to differ.”
I pushed off the counter, needing to be just a little closer to her when I said what I wanted to say. “Your mistakes don’t define you,” I said, looking down at her.
We were so close I could feel the heat coming off her body. God, I wanted to drag her into my arms and feel her against me.
“You’re brilliant,” I continued, and gently tipped her chin when she tried to look away from me. “You have the best sense of humor. You don’t take shit from anyone regardless if they’re ten times your size or not. You have an attitude big enough to fill all of Sweet Water but your compassion for those you do let in is just as fierce. You’re an incredible woman, Anne. And no amount of things in your past could change that.”
Her lips parted, emotion shifting her features from awed to doubtful to confused. “How do you see me like that?”
“I’ve always seen you.”
A shaken breath rushed past her lips, and I swear there was a buzz of electricity crackling between us. I couldn’t deny the tension coiling inside me, couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sensation I had to hold her, kiss her, be with her. Chemistry like this came along once in a lifetime, I knew that since the day we broke up. And even though I knew there wasn’t a world where we worked out, I wanted to try.
“James,” she breathed my name, and I had to brace my hands on either side of her, gripping the kitchen island like it would help me maintain control. “Tell me what you’re thinking, please.”
I licked my lips, my eyes scanning every inch her face from her pink lips to her fluttering blue eyes. “I’m thinking working with you every single day is absolute torture.”
Shock flared in her eyes, so I hurried to continue.
“Standing there every day, pretending like I can’t stop thinking about you is driving me crazy. You’re in my head all the time, in all the ways I want to touch you, kiss you, make you come so many times I’ll be the comparison for everyone who comes after me. Because I know this can’t work, but it doesn’t stop me from needing you on a level that terrifies me.”
Her hands flew to my chest, fisting the material of my shirt to draw me closer. “I’m still a mess,” she admitted, reaching up on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to mine.
I gripped her hips and hefted her onto the island, separating her thighs to step between them.