Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“This is what it’s all about,” I say. “Everyone always focuses on the big things. The huge events you can stamp a date on. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Graduations. Milestones. But this is what matters. The precious little moments between the big ones. Think about it. No one ever wants to relive their graduation or some arbitrary birthday. But I guarantee you, if you gave someone a chance to relive a perfectly ordinary day, they’d do it in a heartbeat.”
He takes my hand and pulls me against him. He says nothing, and he lets my words fall where they may as he watches this new version of his life play out before him.
“We should probably get her to bed,” I whisper.
“Right.” He rises, places his book aside. “Honor, why don’t you put your puzzle away and meet me in your room for a story?”
I make my way to his room to get ready for bed. Last weekend, he cleared out a few drawers for me as well as some space in his bathroom—that paired with the key he gave me, and he’s all but asked me to move in with him.
I don’t think I would, though.
One thing at a time.
I tie my hair up, wash my face, brush my teeth, and slip into one of his t-shirts before climbing beneath the cool, slick sheets of Bennett’s enormous bed.
Less than five minutes later, he joins me.
“She’s out.” He slides in next to me, drawing me into his arms. “Didn’t even get to finish the book before she was snoring. Didn’t think the book was that dull, though I will say it was noticeably repetitive in parts.”
“Most children’s books are …”
I roll to my side and hook my arm over his chest, inhaling the bleached cotton scent of his crisp t-shirt as it mixes with the faded cologne on his warm skin.
“I don’t know how much time I have left, Astaire …” His chest rises and falls, and in the dark, I see the whites of eyes, gaze fixated on the ceiling above. “Could be a year or nine years or thirty-three …”
“Let’s try not to think about that.”
“We don’t have a choice, Astaire. We can’t ignore the fact that my … life … is a ticking timebomb.”
I press my ear against his chest, close my eyes, and listen. The strong thump on the other side fills me with hope.
“Before I met you, before any of this … it never mattered to me. The future never mattered to me. But now … it’s all I think about,” he says. “I want the fireplace and puzzles and bedtime stories. I want the meaningful little things. The quiet nights. My life was void of meaning until I met you, Astaire. I can never go back to that.”
His heart beats faster now, trotting to a gallop.
“I want to come home to you every night. I want to sleep next to you, always. I want to talk about our days. I want to teach Honor what love, real love, looks like. What it means to be a family.” He cups my face in his hand and tilts it upward.
I open my eyes, breath catching with each inhalation. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m asking you to do life with me, Astaire.”
There’s no ring. He isn’t on bended knee. And there’s no mention of marriage. But in its own way, what he’s asking of me is so much bigger than any of that.
“So what do you say?” He pulls me into his lap, sits up, and clicks the lamp on beside us. “Are you in?”
His gaze surveys mine, his breath slow and steady, patient—unfitting for a man who doesn’t have all the time in the world.
I don’t how this is going to end, but I can’t imagine walking away from the beautiful life we could have together, be it tragically brief or wonderfully everlasting.
“I’m in,” I say through clouded vision.
His mouth arches at the sides and he claims my mouth with a kiss that sends tingles from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet. My lips part to accept his tongue, and I slip my hands over his shoulders. A moment later, he’s peeling his t-shirt off my shoulders. The outline of his cock grows harder, thicker as our mouths connect and I grind against him.
Sliding the gusset of my panties aside, he slips a finger between my seam, teasing my clit before pushing it deeper inside me.
But I want more.
I want his heat filling the ache between my thighs.
I stifle a moan before whispering into his ear, all but begging him to have his way with me.
His kisses turn biting and greedy as he flips me onto my back and shoves my panties the rest of the way down. And his mouth grazes mine before he moves south, teasing a pert nipple with his tongue as his fingertips trail my inner thighs and stop at the apex.