Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“You got this?” I ask Rhea once I reach the kitchen and find her directing the servers rushing to get the plates out.
“Got it.” She sends me a harried glance. “Glad Ms. Callahan asked you to do that, not me.”
“It wasn’t part of the bargain. I want to get out of here before she finds something else I didn’t agree to do. Have a great night. Their crew will handle breakdown and cleanup.”
“Thanks for the opportunity,” she says, giving me a small salute.
I grab my purse from the pantry and head for the back porch since all the servers parked on the rear lawn. A gentle grip on my elbow stops me before I get out of the kitchen. I look up over my shoulder to meet Judah’s eyes.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?” The sculpted curve of his mouth settles into a disapproving line. “Or even hello, for that matter.”
“Uh…” I slide a look to Rhea, who seems to be very purposely not watching us right now. “No.”
“So you were just carrying your purse and headed to your car, but not leaving?”
“Judah.” I cast a self-conscious glance around at the kitchen and the servers rushing in and out. “Can we not do this here, now?”
Without replying, he takes my hand and leads me through the bustle of the kitchen and out into the hall. We keep going past the dining room, where guests have started eating and drinking. Laughter and the muted tinkle of glasses follow us down the quiet passageway. I love how his fingers curl around my hand. The contrast between strength and gentleness in the span of his palm. I relish it as a small thing I don’t have in this period of my life. With unhurried steps, he takes me to a room down the hall. When the door closes behind us, I look around, a small smile forcing its way through my wariness. It’s the same room where I found Aaron at this party last year. Same book-lined shelves and well-used armchairs. Even the faint smell of cigars still hangs in the air like a ghost.
Judah turns to face me, sliding his hands into the pockets of dark slacks. With his lean, athletic build, broad shoulders, and narrow waist, clothes love him, draping and clinging in all the right places. He slowly takes in the details of my face, my hair, my clothes. An inventory that ends when he meets my eyes.
“You look good,” he says. “You always do.”
“Thanks.” I clasp my hands behind me, gripping my purse to keep from reaching for him again. That simple mingling of our fingers was better than a kiss in some ways, and I want to hold on to it. “I assume you didn’t bring me back here to compliment my outfit.”
“No, I brought you back here because you weren’t even going to speak to me.” One side of his mouth quirks up. “It defeats the purpose of me arranging ways to see you if I don’t actually get to see you.”
“I told you I’m grateful for this gig.”
“You don’t owe me anything, but I thought we were friends.”
“Is this what friends do?” My laugh comes out like forced air, rough and short. “Want each other?”
In two strides he’s much closer, towering over me, pouring a devouring look down the length of my body. He leans into me until our noses brush and our parted lips nearly touch.
“You want me, Sol?” he asks, his breath fanning my lips.
“Yes,” I pant.
He grips my hip with one hand, pulling me flush against him so I feel how I’ve affected him, how hard he is for me. He lowers his head, and I know that if I don’t speak now, our first kiss will consume all thought.
“But I want myself more than I want to fuck you.”
My words hang between our lips, which are only separated by a paltry centimeter. His thick lashes flick up and his eyes meet mine. “Elaborate.”
“I want what I’m learning about myself, what I’m fixing about myself, how I’m standing on my own,” I say in a rush. “I want that more than anything. Even you.”
I reach up to touch the hard, high slant of his cheekbone.
“And I do want you so much,” I confess, letting my thumb drop to caress the full, soft anomaly of his lips in the rugged beauty of his face. “But this is something I have to do on my own. If I don’t do it now, I’ll repeat my mistakes, Judah. And I can’t go through it again, what I went through with Edward.”
“I’m not Edward.”
“But I am Soledad. I’m that girl who chose comfort over truth. Did I ignore what was wrong in my marriage, with my husband, because I wasn’t sure there was anything else for me? Did I not want to disrupt life for my girls? Or was it that I didn’t want to disrupt life for myself? Those are questions that demand answers.”