Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
She stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. He jerked back when their joined hands pulled tight and turned to look at her. “You okay?”
As she stood there, frozen, it all came back in a blurry rush. The consuming heat of his kiss in the elevator last night, the pressure of the wall at her back once they got to their room, the way his mouth moved down her neck, wild. The fever of her hands moving up under his shirt, feeling the warm expanse of his torso. His insistence that she drink some water, go put on her pajamas, brush out her hair. Standing side by side in the bathroom, brushing their teeth, and then finding him in the darkness, pulling him close again, wanting more. The way he let her climb over him and pull off his shirt, the way they kissed and the desperation in his touch before he carefully rolled her to her back, his chest heaving as he reminded her that they had time to take it slow.
“I think you’re my favorite person,” she’d said drowsily into his neck. “Edward, Edward, Edward.”
“I like that you call me that,” he’d admitted. “It feels really good that you know my name.”
It was the last thing he’d said before she fell asleep.
“I called you Fitz in McDonald’s,” she said now. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
A smile slowly curved his perfect mouth, and he took a few steps toward her, cupping her cheeks and bending to kiss her. “Does this mean you’re remembering last night?”
She sensed the way her face heated under his palms. “Yes.”
“So you know why I stopped us. I meant what I said. I want us both to remember when those firsts happen.”
Her stomach dropped as the buildings of downtown Nashville seemed to loom overhead, crowding into her visual field. “When?”
His flirty smile slowly straightened as he searched her eyes. “When what?”
“You said when, not if.”
“Sunshine, I’m okay with if, too. We can do as much, or as little as you want. But we won’t do any of it drunk.”
She nodded and pushed up on her toes to kiss him again. They started to walk, but the sights disappeared around her, the tourists banished by the whirlwind of her thoughts. She wanted more with Edward. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted to explore it all. But when? Nashville was the final dot on the map for him, but she still had one more stop. Would things be the same when they got back to Spokane? Or would he go back to being Just Fitz, even with her?
And she’d been so wrapped up in the excitement of the trip and the heat simmering between her and Edward that she hadn’t thought—really thought—about what the next phase of her journey looked like. Suddenly, the idea of leaving him today and heading into the foggy unknown of family secrets felt so overwhelming, Ren got dizzy.
With a flush of panic, she came to a stop, tugging his hand. “I don’t want to go to Atlanta today.”
With a look of confusion, he turned to face her. “You want to stay another night? In Nashville?”
“Yes, but…” she began, suddenly aware that she might be imposing, that she had no idea what he had scheduled here. “Of course I don’t want to mess with whatever your plans are.”
“I, uh…” He trailed off, swallowing. “I have a thing on Thursday. I had some other stuff I was going to do in town, but Thursday is the only thing I can’t miss.”
A thing? Some other stuff? Frustration simmered in her belly. They could kiss and sleep wound around each other, but he was always so vague. Maybe this was how it worked, though. Maybe sexual intimacy came first. It felt so backward.
“Then yes,” she said. “I need to be on a bus back to Spokane by Wednesday, probably. But I want to stay another night.”
One more day with Edward sounded like not nearly enough, but she’d take whatever she could get. She had bigger things to think about, but she’d never felt like this before. She wanted to stay in it a little longer, to savor it. Especially today.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she said, confident again, and stepped forward, tilting her chin to look up at him. “Nothing sounds worse than getting on a bus, hungover, on my birthday.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
REN
Ren kicked off her shoes and looked over at him. “Turn around.”
Brow sweaty, breaths ragged, Edward slowly lowered his water bottle and gazed at her with concern. “Turn around why?”
Gesturing out to the lake ahead of them, Ren communicated the answer in her expression: Isn’t it obvious? After making all the unnecessary noises of someone who unknowingly missed a birthday, Edward had asked what she wanted to do. She’d admitted she’d never really celebrated her birthday before, not in a way that mattered, so she had no idea. Sitting at a sidewalk café, they’d searched his phone for local options: Centennial Park, the Country Music Hall of Fame, a distillery visit, the Grand Ole Opry, or even a tractor tour. But when a series of stunning photos for Harpeth River State Park popped up in the browser, Ren was sold.