Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
She looks up at me through her lashes, and for a brief second, the same desire and hope from our day at the cabin appears. However, as fast as she allows it to show, it disappears. Lynn takes a step out of my hold.
I drop my arms to my sides and shove my hands in my jeans pockets. She shifts her weight from foot to foot. The war within is written all over her face, leaving me to wonder what she’s warring with.
We agreed we’d do this for Brooke, and we’d be happy while we’re here. I hope she’s not having second thoughts. I don’t think I can do this alone.
She tugs her pajama leg down and starts to wipe her face as if just realizing what she looks like.
“Give me some time to shower and get dressed,” she murmurs and rushes toward the bedroom.
I follow behind her, stepping into the living area as she disappears behind the bedroom’s decorative curtains. This suite is nice. It was a gift from my parents.
We all want to make this easier for Lynn somehow. I look around. My room is similar, except for the two bedrooms I’m sharing with my best friend.
My gaze lands on Lynn’s guitar case open across one of the accent chairs. I walk over to lightly touch the strings. A grin comes to my face when her notebook and pen on the coffee table come into view.
However, my grin falls when I look around again and the trash bin full of crumbled-up pages comes into view. I saunter around the chairs to the bin and squat to pull out one of the pages.
There’s only a single line on the page that’s been scribbled through. I sigh, wondering when the last time was that she wrote more than a few tossed-out lines. Lynn is so talented.
Her mama was the one who told me she hadn’t been singing or writing since the accident. Lynn not singing is like her not breathing. This alone tells me how much pain she’s in.
Pushing up, I amble over to the couch and take a seat. I’m so lost in my thoughts; I don’t know how long I sit waiting for Lynn to get ready. When she opens the curtain, I stand and shove my hands into my pockets again. The moment she steps from the room, I’m breathless.
She’s wearing a yellow sundress that gives her skin a warm glow. Her curves are on display, bringing a blush to my cheeks. Her hair looks beautiful in the braids she had done before we left for this trip.
They’re loose this time, the reddish-brown color perfect as the extensions reach down her back. Something in her eyes has changed in the last few weeks. She looks older. Wiser but also sad. Yet there’s one thing that’s undeniable.
She’s stunning.
I want nothing more than to go over and reach for her. I’d devour her peach-tinted, glossy lips. I can’t stop thinking about how they felt against mine. However, this isn’t the time for that, so I push those thoughts to the back of my mind.
I clear my throat. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I’m starving. Where does she have us going?”
“L’Èclair de Genie,” I try to say in my country accent.
Lynn releases the sweetest giggle. I’d screw those words up a million times to hear that sound again. This time, I can’t remain rooted to the spot I’m standing in. I move across the room to where she stands and reach out to tuck a few of her braids behind her ear.
When she tilts her head back to look into my eyes, I can’t help dropping my gaze to her lips. They’re so full and inviting beneath the gloss. She parts them slightly before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.
I suck in a breath. I’ve gone from having her to being unsure of everything about us. The day we went to the cabin, I had decided not to rush.
I wanted to take my time with Lynn. Now, I feel like I’m racing against some invisible clock. I’ve never been this out of sorts in a relationship.
Do we still have one? I’ve had the same thought a million times. I have to find a way to get back to where we were. Again, not able to help myself, I trace her hairline with my fingertips.
“We should go,” she whispers as she drops her head and turns for her bag.
Disappointment rolls through me, but I remind myself to be patient. I’ve waited all these years. I can wait a little more.
However, when Lynn has fully turned her back to me and her bare skin and round bottom come into view, I question my sanity. I’m putting myself through torture, for sure.
Lynn
I’m so confused, and looking at Trev isn’t helping. When I stepped out of the room, he shoved his hands in his pockets, causing his muscles to tighten and bunch, stretching his T-shirt. I thought I was going to trip over my own feet. He’s not wearing his Stetson.