Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I shrugged one shoulder. “It is easy, if you break it down into small tasks. My yard didn’t get to be what it is in a week. It took a while.”
“Guess I’ve got nothing but time, these days,” he said.
“And you’re lucky for that,” I said. I nodded toward the house. “Your couch already looks a million times better, by the way, with the new pillows and blankets.”
“It’s incredible,” he said, a delighted expression on his face. “I’ve almost fallen asleep on the couch multiple times this week. That never used to happen to me.”
“We should go watch some dumb TV show in there,” I said.
“You’d want to do that?”
“We’ve been out here all day,” I said with a shrug.
He tried to hide it, but I could see the surprise on his face. I was honestly as surprised as him. I almost never preferred being indoors. I felt a pressure in my chest, but this time, it was for a different reason. The pressure was completely coming from me.
Open up to him.
Just do it.
No cliches, no motivational phrases. Tell him how you feel.
It was a paradox. In Afghanistan, being indoors was sometimes the only place I was safe—safe from the chaos, but also safe from the days that were silent, too. Long stretches of time where I had nothing to do but wait and wait and wait.
Sometimes those days were almost worse. Anticipating something bad coming, twenty-four hours a day, with no knowledge of when the momentary peace might be broken.
I shifted on my seat, trying to piece together how I could tell Cam.
“Being inside can sometimes make me feel like I’m trapped,” I said.
“Is it claustrophobia?” he asked
“Not exactly,” I said. “I can go to stores just fine, obviously. But houses can feel different. It’s hard to explain. Everything just feels so much more open when I’m outside. In lush, green settings, especially.”
“It makes sense,” he said.
“But your house doesn’t feel that way to me,” I said, looking up at the tall ceilings, the wooden beams angling just past the big open windows. “It’s not the same as mine.”
He nodded. “We really wanted the kids to have a space that felt open in that way,” he said. “And we can totally leave all of the windows open.”
“You’re not afraid of bugs?” I teased him.
“That’s what the screens are for,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s try it, then.”
“And if you start to feel that trapped feeling, you’ll tell me, right?” he asked.
I nodded once.
I felt like I was lying, even though I vowed to tell him the truth. Typically I never spoke about my problems with other people. If I was having a hard time, I wanted to be alone. If the world felt like it was closing in on me, the only thing that made me feel better was to be silent, alone in my gardens, and let the moment pass.
But I didn’t want things to be like that. Not with Cam. There was some small part of me that already felt at home with him, and I owed him the decency of honesty.
“If I start to feel it, I’ll tell you,” I said.
“There’s just going to be one problem, if we go in and hang out on the couch,” Cam said.
“And what’s that?”
He met my eyes, a twinkle appearing in his gaze that I was beginning to like a little bit too much.
Usually when he got that twinkle, it meant he was about to break one of his rules.
“I’m going to want to cuddle,” he said.
Bingo.
My cock perked up a little, just hearing him say it. How the hell could a guy talk about cuddling and turn me on this much?
“Is that right?” I said.
He nodded slowly. “I can’t help it,” he said.
“And you want to cuddle with me, huh?” I asked him. Butterflies started up in my chest again. Fucking butterflies. I hadn’t been excited like this in a long time.
“There’s no way I could be near you and not want to cuddle.” He said it like it was a deep confession.
I fought to keep a smile off my face. “Okay. We can cuddle a little, then. But let me take a shower first and rinse off, at least,” I said. “I’ve been working out here all day and I’m not about to get your nice couch all sweaty.”
“Deal,” he said.
I helped him clean up dinner, moving all of the trays and plates inside and filling up the dishwasher. I hadn’t had a dishwasher since I lived in an old apartment years and years ago, and even that small luxury made me feel like I’d entered another world.
He got me a clean, plush towel and led me to the master bedroom. It was another stunning room with high ceilings, tall windows, and incredible views of the trees, but Cam had managed to still make it feel cozy. The walls were painted a dusky blue, and the bedside tables had small lamps atop them, giving off a muted glow. The room looked like a fancy hotel room, one that might cost hundreds of dollars a night.