Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I catch his hand in mine, stopping the movement before the desire completely overwhelms me. “I came to ask for some clothes.”
“Really now?” he teases as if I had an ulterior motive.
I grin up at him. “Don’t be a jerk. How was I to know you were putting on a show?”
He laughs as he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me across the hallway to his room, only I stop in the doorway, refusing to take another step. Sean turns back and his brows furrow before giving me a questioning look. “Something wrong?” he asks as he steps into the walk-in closet and starts rifling through his things.
My face scrunches, not sure just how honest I should be about this, or if I should even bring it up at all, but I don’t want to start this relationship with mistruths. “Yeah, sorry. I just . . . I don’t want to impose in here,” I say, giving him a sad smile. “This room was your personal space with Sara. I don’t want to tarnish the memory she left here. That’s yours and yours alone.”
A faraway look flickers through his eyes, and I watch as he truly considers my words before finally nodding, appreciation in his dark gaze. “Thank you,” he finally says, making his way back to me with a white shirt and sweatpants in his hands.
I offer him a smile as he hands me the clothes, and yet I find myself still stuck in his doorway, not ready to walk away. His hand comes up and he runs his fingers down the side of my face, making me tilt into him, those soft eyes locked on mine. “What’s on your mind?” he asks.
Glancing past him, I take in the picture of Sara on his bedside table and press my lips into a hard line. “Do you think she would approve of me?” I ask, nervousness plaguing me as I look back up at him.
A softness creeps into his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, his smile widening. “She sure as hell would.”
I let out a heavy breath, and I let go of the anxiousness that’s been buried deep inside me since the moment I first saw the canvas at the top of the stairs. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
With that, Sean leans down and presses his lips to mine again, only this time, we manage to control ourselves. “I might be being a little bold here,” he says, his lips moving against mine, “but I think you’ve worked out that I’m not taking you home tonight.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I worked that one out.”
“Good,” he smiles before taking my hand and leading me back to the bathroom. “Get yourself dressed and then we’re gonna go downstairs and pretend to watch a movie while I kiss you like a fucking horny teenager.”
Sounds fucking perfect to me.
After getting dressed, Sean leads me back down to the living room and all but deposits me on the couch, and I watch him as he walks over to the massive fireplace and expertly lights it up, filling the room with the sweetest warmth. “Do you need any more painkillers?” he asks as he drops onto the couch beside me and pulls me into his arms.
“No,” I tell him as he reaches for the discarded blanket on the floor and pulls it over us. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“Good,” he says before handing me the complex remote and demanding I choose only my favorite movie in the world, and honestly, making that decision is more pressure than he will ever understand. I mean, how do I choose between The Notebook and A Walk to Remember? Though, considering their ending, perhaps neither is appropriate.
We lay together on the couch, his warm arms wrapped around me as his fingers roam up and down my arm, and within fifteen minutes of watching the movie, I find myself getting sleepy. Glancing up at Sean, I notice his furrowed brows, and I roll in his arm to meet his stare. “What’s wrong?” I ask, hoping that he isn’t having second thoughts.
He takes the remote and lowers the volume before bringing his gaze back to mine, a seriousness in his eyes. “I was just wondering if it bothers you that I’ve been married and have a child?”
“No,” I tell him honestly. “I’m thankful for it.”
His brows furrow further, and I can tell he wasn’t expecting my answer, Hell, he wasn’t just not expecting it, it downright confuses him. “How so?” he questions.
“Your marriage is what made you the man you are today,” I tell him, reaching up and placing my hand on the side of his face. “Without that, you could be anyone or anywhere, and that may not have led you to me.”
His eyes shine as he takes in my answer. “And Georgie?”