Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Scarlett’s chest tightened. Three days. That’s all they had left before she was due to leave. Jameson had gotten the message from his uncle yesterday. How long would they be apart? How long would this war last? What if these were the last three days she would ever spend with him? Each question tightened the vise in her chest until every breath was painful.
“Don’t think about it,” he whispered, his gaze flickering over her face as though he needed to memorize every feature.
“How do you know what I’m thinking about?” She tried to smile, but it wasn’t there.
“Because it’s all I think about,” he admitted. “I wish there were any other way to keep you with me, to keep him safe.”
She nodded, biting her lip to keep the trembling at bay. “I know.”
“You’re going to love Colorado,” he promised, a spark of joy lighting his eyes. “The air is thinner, and that might take some getting used to, but the mountains are so tall, it’s as if they’re reaching for the sky. It’s beautiful, and honestly, the only thing I’ve ever seen bluer than the Colorado sky is your eyes. My mother knows you’re coming, and she has the house set up for you and William. Uncle Vernon will help you through immigration, and who knows, you might even have that book of yours finished by the time I get home.”
It didn’t matter how pretty the picture he painted, because he wasn’t in it, at least not for the immediate future. But she wasn’t going to say that to him. Their goodbyes were days away, and she knew she needed to stay strong, not only for Jameson, but for William. There was no use lamenting or whining. Her visa had been approved two weeks ago, their path was set, and now there was work to be done—two lives that needed to be packed.
“I’m not taking the phonograph.” It was the one point of contention between them.
“Record player, and my mother told me to bring it back.”
She quirked a brow. “I thought your mother told you to bring it back with you, alive.” She ran her fingers through his hair, committing the feel of the strands to memory.
“Tell her I’m sending it home with my life, because that’s what you and William are. You are my life.” He cupped her cheek and looked at her with so much intensity that she felt his gaze like a touch. “When we look back on this, it will be nothing more than a blip on our timeline.”
Her stomach twisted. The only blips she was familiar with were the kind that showed incoming bomber raids.
“I love you, Jameson,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m only willing to go for William’s sake.”
“I love you, too. And the fact that you’re willing to go to keep William safe only makes me love you more.”
“Three days,” she whispered, already breaking her stay-strong motto.
“Three days,” he repeated, forcing a smile. “The cavalry is coming, my love. American forces are on their way, and who knows, by this time next year, this all might be over.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Why, Scarlett Stanton,” he teased. “Are you saying you won’t wait for me?” The corner of his mouth lifted into what she would almost call a smirk.
“I’ll wait for you forever,” she promised. “Will you be okay, here without me?”
“No,” he answered softly. “I won’t be okay until I’m with you again. You’re taking my heart with you. But I will live,” he swore, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “I will fly. I will fight. I will write you every day and dream of you every night.”
She tried to keep the pain from overtaking her, shoving it back with the reminder that they still had three days. “That won’t leave you much time for taking up with another girl,” she teased.
“There will never be another girl for me. Only you, Scarlett. Only this.” He pulled her closer. “I just wish I could’ve taken leave today.”
She scoffed. “They gave you last weekend for Constance’s wedding, and the day to see us off. I can’t really complain.”
“Would you call that a wedding? It felt more like a funeral.” He grimaced.
“It was both.” Constance had followed through, as if there had been any doubt, and married Henry Wadsworth last weekend. Lord Ladder Climber officially had his foothold in British society, Constance had protected the land she loved so much, and her parents’ financial future was secure. “It was an overpriced celebration of a business deal,” Scarlett said quietly.
They lay there for another moment as the sun rose higher, the light in their bedroom turning from a dusty pink to a brighter hue. They couldn’t put off the start of the morning any longer, though Jameson did talk her into taking a shower with him.
Twenty minutes and another orgasm later, he wrapped her in a towel, then tied one around his waist and began to shave. She leaned against the doorframe and watched. It was a routine she never grew tired of, mostly because he usually did it shirtless. Once he was finished, she headed toward her bedroom to get dressed for her day, just as William let out his first cry of the morning.