Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
It meant she’d opened a door, that’s what. To more than just friendship. To sharing part of her life with Conrad. To a future.
No, she hadn’t just opened a door, she’d flung the thing off its hinges, turned on the porch light and rolled out a welcome mat.
Her hands grew clammy as a cold sweat broke out along the back of her neck. Though she’d spoken of friendship, only friendship, she couldn’t negate the words. The damage was already done. Did that mean she was soon to lose Conrad? Perhaps he’d find a new job somewhere else in a month. Maybe, in a year, he would meet his dream woman in Atlanta and decide to return to the city. Maybe it would happen in a decade. Did it really matter if the curse was real or self-inflicted? Jane believed it; he was right about that. Meaning, the end result was the same. Loss.
How did someone go about changing their whole belief system? Forgetting a lifetime of expectation in favor of hope for something better?
What she suddenly knew beyond any doubt? The road she currently traveled with Conrad wasn’t the right one. Be it fate, destiny or curse, and she was to lose him regardless, why not fight for something better while she had the chance?
Maybe Wyatt and Fiona were right. What if Conrad could break the curse? Why not give him a chance? You missed a hundred percent of the shots you didn’t take.
Something cracked inside her. Just a smidge, but enough. The very hope she’d lamented only moments ago bloomed through the new opening. An optimism so rare, Jane almost didn’t recognize it.
Here it was, her answer. Taking a chance on him. Because he was worth it. More than worth it. Of course, marriage would never be an option. No way she’d risk his life on top of everything else. But dating him? Enjoying him until he broke the curse…or not? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. She’d been a fool to break things off with him.
“What do you think so far?” Conrad asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
She rotated to face him, peering up at his handsome face and beaming.
He stilled, only the muscles in his throat seeming to work. “Whatever I did to deserve that smile, tell me so I can do it again.”
“The house is kind of perfect,” she told him with conviction. “Buddy’s right. Character is seeping from the built-in bookcases to the window seat. There’s a ton of potential.” Plus, Conrad wouldn’t live too far from the Garden. “And you do like to fix things.”
With his lopsided smile in place, he took her hand. “Come on. Let’s see the rest.”
They strolled up the stairs, finding three bedrooms on the second floor. Their fingers remained twined, neither letting go. She didn’t let herself ponder what that could mean on his behalf. Not yet.
“When I was a little boy in foster care,” he said, the gentleness of his tone surprising her as much as his willingness to initiate a conversation about his past, “I used to lay in bed and tell myself I’d live in a house of my own one day, and no one would be able to take it away from me.”
A lump clogged her throat. This man might be as tough as nails, but he was as sweet as cotton candy too. “You deserve the best life, Conrad. You really do.”
He squeezed her hand. “So do you, Jane.”
She struggled to focus as they returned downstairs. But focus she did. He brought her here to get her honest opinion, so she would give it. “The layout of the kitchen reminds me of the cottage,” she told him the lump dissolved. “It’s open and flows into the rest of the house with just the right amount of old-world charm. I love it.” Dang it! There she went, slinging the L word around all willy-nilly again.
In a show of mercy, he stayed silent today just as he’d stayed quiet yesterday. The tension evaporated from her, deflating her shoulders.
“Did I hear someone singing praises?” Buddy popped back into the room, a bright smile on his face. “There’s a study attached to the master bedroom, which you could also use as a, ahem, nursery. And Mr. Ryan, did you say you had a dog?”
“The perfect little corgi,” Jane answered, eager to get past talk of babies and nurseries.
“The backyard is already fenced for your little guy,” Buddy pointed out. “Well, are you ready to render the final verdict?”
Still Conrad maintained a steady hold on her. The pull between them never lessened.
She tilted her head back, peering up at him through the shield of her lashes. “It’s the kind of home I would buy for myself,” she admitted softly, “if I didn’t adore living at the cemetery, of course.”
“Did you say cemetery?” Buddy piped up.