Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Good, at least you know that. I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of you.” Her eyes close once she smears burrata on a piece of focaccia. Bringing it to her mouth, her teeth sink into the bread. “Oh, my God, this is heaven.”
It's heaven to watch her enjoy herself. There's nothing like spoiling someone who deserves it.
“I know you better than that.” Though considering my past with women—especially one in particular whose name I refuse to mention or even think of, if I can help it—I can understand why she would go out of her way to assure me.
“This might sound stupid, but I feel like I should have a better idea of what I want out of life.”
“There is plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with your life. I don't know why society expects everyone to know what they want to do the second they turn eighteen. Most people don't even know what they want to do for a job until they're older, and then they've wasted years doing something they've hated simply for a paycheck and insurance. There's more to life than surviving. As you grow up, it's like you understand what you want most out of life.”
“I know, but with the baby and everything...” She lowers the rest of her focaccia to the plate, and her dark brows draw together. I can see the worry lines creasing her forehead, and I want to kick myself for the direction this conversation has gone.
“That's the thing about having money. It gives you options. If you want to hire a nanny and work full-time? Go ahead. If you want to go back to school? Be my guest. If you want to be a stay-at-home mom and volunteer a few hours a week somewhere, that's fine with me. You can do whatever you want. I'll be here for you, supporting you, with whatever it is you decide to do.”
“Wow.” She sighs. “I'm sorry, I just never thought about it that way. There are so many options available.”
“Compromising is a thing of the past.” Eventually, I'm going to make sure she understands that. I never imagined the joy of being able to open up my world to someone else. Yes, there are risks with my job and the people I associate with but also benefits.
All at once her head snaps up, and a soft smile touches her lips. “This song. It was one of my mom's favorites.”
I recognize the instrumental version of an old 80s love song coming from speakers somewhere in the dining room. The way she beams, paired with the candlelight and the flowers and the sense of there being nobody in the world except the two of us, leaves me doing something wholly out of character.
“Dance with me?” She blushes and lets out a giggle when I push my chair back from the table. I'm certain she's going to brush me off and tell me I'm crazy, but when I extend a hand to her, she places hers against my palm and stands.
“You're the most perfect kind of crazy.”
I can't disagree. “It's a good thing you already knew that.”
Her petite frame melts into mine when I place my hand against the small of her back and pull her close. The soft, gentle rhythm is easy to fall into, and soon we're swaying in time. I've never considered myself a romantic—more like the farthest thing from it. Still, I'd be kidding myself if I didn't acknowledge the magic of this moment.
If only she hadn't mentioned her mother. I didn't need a reminder of the dark cloud parked over my head. She casts a shadow on everything, all the time. I need to tell her. Not yet. Not just yet.
Let us have this night.
“Are you okay? Where did you go?”
I look down at her to find a puzzled, concerned look in her eyes. “I guess I was thinking about how old it makes me that I remember when this song came out.”
Disbelief shines in her pretty eyes. “You're such a liar.”
“What? You don't think I'm that old? I'll do you one better. I remember watching a guy lip-sync this song on an old TV show, with girls in golden leotards dancing in a circle around him. The 80s were a different time. Kinda like you had to be there to experience it.”
“You know that's not what I meant. I just… it looked… you looked at me like you were worried.”
“My mind tends to wander sometimes. I'm sorry. I'm not worried, and you deserve my full attention, little bird.” My grin must be natural enough to convince her since she lets it be and instead rests her cheek against my shoulder, letting out a happy little sigh that unlocks something in my chest. Something warm and sweet.