Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
It was like trying to move a tank.
He laughed and wrapped me up in his arms. “My turn,” he said, his breath warm on my lips.
No one had ever done this before, undressed me so patiently and seductively. He turned me away from him and unzipped my dress, sliding the pull tab down slowly from the middle of my shoulder blades to my lower back. Brushing my hair aside, he put his lips at the nape of my neck and kissed his way down my spine, following the path of the dress’s opening. I shivered in anticipation.
Carefully, he guided the dress to my ankles and I stepped out. He draped the gown over a chair and faced me again. Naked except for my beige (of course) panties and nude (some things never change … at least they were designer) heels, I started to feel a little self-conscious.
He put me at ease immediately. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he said, sweeping his hands down my arms.
I smiled. “You can’t even see me. It’s pitch dark in here.”
“I can see you. And you’ve never looked as beautiful to me as you do right now.” He moved closer, slipping his arms around my waist and pressing his warm, bare chest against my breasts. “Because you’re mine.”
I lifted my hands to his neck. “Yes, I am.”
He kissed me deeply, a kiss full of love and gratitude and possession and fire. “You changed my life,” he said, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to the bed. “But you did it by letting me be who I already was.”
“You changed mine the same way,” I whispered as I watched him remove the rest of his clothes. As long as I lived, I would never grow tired of seeing him naked.
He pulled off my shoes and slid my underwear down my legs before stretching out above me. “I don’t know where we go from here, Stella Devine, but I know I don’t want to be without you.”
“You don’t have to be.” I hooked my legs over the backs of his thighs and took his face in my hands. “Ever again.”
Pressing my lips to his, I silently vowed to do everything in my power to be worthy of him. To be patient. Kind. Forgiving. To remember everything he’d gone through because he believed in honor. To know that no one held him to a higher standard than he held himself. To love him for exactly who he was and make him grateful that he could feel it.
Now and forever.
Forty-One
Epilogue
STELLA
“Can I peek yet?” I asked.
“No,” came Ryan’s firm reply. “You leave that blindfold where it is or else.”
I giggled. “But we’ve been driving forever. I’m dying to know where you’re taking me.”
“Tough.”
“Can I guess?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Corktown?” I ventured, naming one of our favorite Detroit neighborhoods for restaurants and bars.
“Nope.”
“SheWolf?” Ryan loved the grilled lamb ribs there and I adored the tagliatelle with lobster.
“Nope.”
“Greektown?” I guessed, picturing Monroe Avenue all lit up at night.
“Nope.”
I felt the truck accelerate, as if we were getting on the expressway. “You’re not going to drive clear up to Grams’s house, are you?”
He laughed. “Not a chance. I don’t miss that drive one bit.”
“Me neither.”
Ryan and I had kept things going long-distance for about five months, but the four-hour-drive had grown tedious every weekend. We’d taken turns making it, but since Ryan often had to be on hand for weddings at Cloverleigh, it was me making the drive most of the time. Finally, Ryan felt so bad that he offered to quit his job and move to Detroit to be closer to me. By then, he’d finished the work on his house, and his friend Mack was going to buy it. He needed more space since his three daughters were going to live with him full time. Grams, as you can imagine, was absolutely thrilled to have kids next door (not to mention a potentially single Marine to fix up, but she’d promised me she’d wait until he was officially divorced before she started matchmaking again).
I’d invited Ryan to stay with me while he looked for a job and a place to rent, and even though he found work managing the grounds at a country club right away and we looked at dozens of cool apartments in the city, we found we enjoyed living together in my house so much, I asked him not to leave.
Seven months later, we were coming up on our one-year anniversary, and I’d never been happier.
“El Asador!” I shouted, naming one of our favorite Mexican places in the city. “I could totally go for a steak right now.”
“Me too, but that’s not where we’re going either.”
I sighed. “Are you even going to tell me if I get it right?”
“Probably not.”
Blindly I reached over to hit him on the chest but hit the seat instead.