Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “It’s not you. Believe me, it’s nothing I haven’t thought about, I just can’t face my fears enough to do it. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks. It seems ludicrous to suggest that what we have might be worth upending our lives for.”
“Well, I don’t know.” She smiled. “Have you ever heard the story about Mr. and Mrs. Buckley?”
“Yes. Austin told me.”
“So it can happen quickly. And a man can swear up and down he’s never going to fall in love, but the right woman comes along, and boom—he burns down a city for her.”
I laughed ruefully. “I think you’ve been out with too many book boyfriends.”
She sighed heavily. “I know. It’s a problem.”
Back at home, I got ready for our not-a-date, telling myself just to relax and have a good time tonight. Not to think about tomorrow. Not to think about leaving him. Not to think about loving him.
One final, glorious night before the curtain came down.
TWENTY-ONE
austin
At quarter to eight Saturday night, I walked up the garage stairs to knock on Veronica’s door.
While I waited for her to answer, I straightened my tie and smoothed my freshly cut hair. The suit might have been overkill, but I couldn’t help wanting to impress her. Every day, she saw me in dirty jeans and sweaty work shirts. Maybe I didn’t have a closet full of bespoke suits, but I wanted to show her I could clean up nice.
She pulled the door open and I lost my breath.
My eyes wandered from the blond hair piled on top of her head to the diamonds twinkling in her ears to the blue strapless dress to the high-heeled shoes. The scent of her perfume hit me, and my knees nearly buckled. “Wow. You look gorgeous.”
She smiled, and my heart skipped a few beats. “Thank you. I bought a new dress.” She twirled around. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. The color matches your eyes.”
“You look very handsome. That suit on you is . . .” She kissed her fingertips like a chef. “Perfection.”
“Thank you.”
“But you didn’t have to come up and get me, silly,” she chided. “You could have just texted. I’d have come down.”
“I didn’t mind. Are you ready?”
“I am.” She pulled the door shut behind her. “Let’s go.”
I took her arm as we went down the steps. “Are those new earrings? I’ve never seen you wear them before.”
She stopped halfway down the stairs and looked at me, her expression worried. “I wasn’t sure if I should wear them. They were a birthday gift from Neil. But I literally have no jewelry that wasn’t from him, and I wanted to look pretty tonight.”
“You don’t need diamonds to be the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Her smile returned. “Thank you. Want me to take them off?”
“No.” What I wanted was to be the one that could give her that kind of gift. I hadn’t even thought to bring her flowers. “It’s okay.”
“You know what? Give me a minute. I want to take them off.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to do it for me.”
“It’s for me.” She kissed my cheek, then hurried up the stairs and disappeared into the apartment. When she came out of the door again, the earrings were gone. “There. I feel better without them.”
We started down the stairs again. “Is Xander coming with us?” she asked, spying his SUV in the drive.
“No, I just traded the truck for his car tonight—it’s nicer.” I opened the passenger door for her.
“Austin, you didn’t have to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble,” I said, eyeing her legs as she got in the car.
But there was trouble.
As I drove toward the harbor, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I would never have the chance to give her a birthday gift, watch her unwrap something I’d chosen for her, and see her wearing it.
As we walked into the restaurant, I put my hand on the small of her back and realized I’d never take her on another Saturday night date, be seated across from her at a table by the window, watch the light of the setting sun reflect in her hair, in her eyes, on her skin.
I’d never get to see her get ready beforehand, zip up her dress, fasten her necklace, catch the scent of her perfume in a room we shared.
I wouldn’t get to take her home afterward, pay the babysitter, check in on the kids, then unzip that dress and take her to bed, where we’d have to be quiet so the twins didn’t hear us, but we’d whisper and laugh about the times we’d been noisy and wild. I’d keep my voice low as I talked dirty to her. She’d cover her face with a pillow as I made her come with my tongue. I’d try not to be so rough the bed thumped against the bedroom wall.