Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“They are?”
I nod, my nose moving along her skin as I breathe her in. Before, I wouldn’t have been so straightforward, but now, I know I have to be. I will not allow any more miscommunication with her. There will be no more “Maybe I should have told her.” I’m throwing everything out there, and I won’t ever feel regret again.
With my voice as steady as I can manage, I promise her, “Not only tonight, but forever.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Thatcher’s confession has heat building in my gut as I watch him move away from me to take the seat in front of me. He had the perfect opportunity to kiss me, but he didn’t. My need for his lips on mine is actually causing my eye to twitch. How many almost-kisses will we have before I get what I’m finally admitting to wanting? I almost ask, but that seems a little too eager, doesn’t it? Maybe I should make a move? Or else I’ll be waiting years for another song to prompt that kiss.
When his dark-brown eyes meet mine, the warm glow of the candle making them seem darker, I blurt out, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
His lips lift at the side as he leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his jacket with one hand like he doesn’t belong on the ice, but the runway. “Because if I do, I won’t stop.”
He says it so confidently, so effortlessly, leaving me stupefied. Breathless, I ask, “And the problem…?”
Thatcher chuckles, and my clit throbs at the huskiness in his voice. “Have you gotten into exhibitionism since you’ve been gone?”
I snort a laugh at that. “That would mean I’d have to actually hook up with someone.”
He raises his brows at that. “Is that right? Been busy?”
I curve my lips. “Yeah, being a mom.”
“The best mom,” he tells me, opening his napkin in his lap. “You know that, right? You’ve done a great job with her, Audrina.”
My heart swells with pride. “Thank you.”
“So, no one caught your eye?”
I sigh very dramatically. “Nope, was never looking.”
He likes that; I can tell by the way his lips arc into a wicked grin before he mutters, “Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. I like how that makes me feel.”
“Had nothing to do with you,” I tease, to which his grin grows wider.
“Still lying to us?” he asks, his voice all throaty and dirty. “For shame.”
I can’t hide my grin as heat trails down my spine and my cheeks flush. He makes it really hard not to want to climb onto this table and lay myself out like a feast for him. Thankfully, a waitress comes out to hand us our menus, and when I see what the fixed courses are, I actually squeal. Just as Arwen does whenever Thatcher lifts her in the air. “You planned an hors d’oeuvres dinner for me?”
For the first time in so long, I hear the excitement in my voice. I’ve been living only for Arwen the last three years, but tonight, this is for me. I’ve always wanted a meal like this. Where all you get is yummy appetizers because I eat too fast when I have a lot of food in front of me. I shouldn’t be surprised by what he has planned. He knows how much I love hors d’oeuvres, but even so, I can’t kick the giddy feeling in my gut. “I selected this place because they have the best appetizers. Plus, Jennings Sr. had his chef prepare some dishes that are from the spring and summer menu, so I hope you’re hungry.”
I wiggle in my seat. “I am.”
“Good,” he says, a small smirk on his lips as he pours me a glass of white wine that will go with the first couple courses. I’m geeking out as his eyes meet mine, and slowly, his smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “You’re stunning, dushen’ka. I love when you smile.”
My cheeks burn, and I look away toward the skyline, the many sparkling buildings glowing in the dark night sky. The whole world is out there, but I want to be nowhere other than right where I am.
When he taps the table, a habit from needing to get Ingrid’s, and now Arwen’s, attention, I look back to find him holding his wine up to me. I grab mine, and our glasses meet in the middle before his gravelly voice wraps around me like a fuzzy blanket. “To new beginnings. As an us.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve ruined that word for me.”
“No way,” he says, his eyes challenging. “I’ve made it mean more.”
I watch him for a moment, and why do I agree? He’s too handsome for his own damn good. All dark, his hair falling into his eyes, his beard neatly trimmed, and his dark-brown eyes pinned on me. He looks like a walking sex god in a Tom Ford suit. His shoulders fill the suit to perfection, and it’s pretty sexy the way the jacket hangs open, the white shirt under it tight along his abs. Nothing is out of place; he is so perfectly put together.