Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
His eyes glinted with challenge. "I always deliver on my promises, Ms. Marshall." He rolled me beneath him again, his mouth hot on my neck. "Want me to prove it?"
I pulled him down for another kiss, already addicted to the taste of him. "Prove it."
Turned out, James Carter was almost better at keeping promises than he was at breaking rules.
We lay sweaty and exhausted with our cheeks on the pillows, eyes locked.
James stroked my cheek. "I love you," he said.
My heart stopped, then started again double-time. "Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be dropping the ‘L’ word, Mr. Carter?”
“Frankly, I don’t give a shit. I love you, Em. I’ve spent the last three years thinking about you every day—wondering what could’ve been.”
I felt a little light-headed as I stared into his dazzling eyes and let the words wash over me. I smiled, biting my lip. “What if I love you too?”
He chuckled, hooking a finger under my chin and lifting my face. “Was that a question mark I heard?”
I kissed him again, pouring everything I felt into it. "I love you too," I whispered against his lips. "Even if you did ruin my career that one time."
He laughed. "I’ll make that up to you. However long it takes..”
“Oh, is that right? We’re already planning a future together, now?”
“Why not?” he asked.
Why not?
The words echoed in my mind, both tempting and exciting.
It felt like something lifted from my mind—some artificial barrier I’d been holding between us. But he was right, wasn’t he? Why the hell not? We were happy together, so why shouldn’t we take this thing and run with it as far as we possibly could? And who was to say we might not make it all the way to our own happily ever after.
But first, we needed to make sure Lily got hers.
30
EMMA
"The flowers are wrong."
I stared at Martha Wellington, who was frowning at the ceremony arch like it had personally offended her. "They're exactly what we ordered."
"They're too... pink."
"They're blush roses. The same ones you approved three times." I forced my voice to stay pleasant. "The same shade as the bridesmaids' dresses."
"Are you sure?" she said, squinting. "They look pinker."
A warm hand settled on my lower back. "Mrs. Wellington," James said smoothly, "I couldn't help but notice they matched your hat perfectly. The way they catch the light really brings out the subtle undertones."
Martha touched her hat—which was, of course, the exact same shade as the roses. "Oh. Yes, I suppose they do."
She wandered off, seemingly mollified, and I sagged against James. "My hero."
"Just doing my part." He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Everything looks perfect, by the way. Even if some people are too stressed to see it."
I surveyed the ceremony space. The morning sun caught on the snow-laden trees, making them sparkle. White chairs lined the aisle, each decorated with carefully crafted flower arrangements. The arch stood proud against the mountain backdrop, absolutely drowning in those allegedly-too-pink roses.
The historical weather patterns I’d obsessively studied even held true. It was an unseasonably warm day, meaning everybody was comfortable and happy.
It was exactly as I'd planned. Exactly perfect.
And for once, that wasn't the most important thing.
"Have you seen Lily?" James asked. “Is she doing alright?”
"She is still getting her makeup and hair finished. But she already looks like something straight out of a fairy tale. I kept crying every time I looked at her, so I had to make an excuse to get busy somewhere else.”
“Women,” James said with a small smile. “I saw Marcus in the lobby mingling as people arrived. He seems… lighter. I think the secrets were really weighing on him.”
"Amazing what honesty can do,” I said.
James's fingers traced patterns on my back. "Speaking of which, I feel the need to admit something to you. A secret, if you will.”
My stomach clenched and went cold. “What?” I breathed.
“The acoustics in our shower are amazing, and the walls must be very thin. Because I could hear every word of you whisper-singing in the shower this morning. ‘At Last’ by Etta James? Very romantic choice. I wonder if you were inspired by the wedding today, or…”
I blushed so hard I thought my cheeks might melt. “I always loved that song. My mom used to play it and lip sync with my dad. It was kind of their thing. And… I wasn’t thinking of the wedding today when I was singing. I was thinking of somebody else.”
“Yeah?” James asked, eyes smoldering. “Who?”
“One of those Wellington muscle brothers,” I said, trying very, very hard not to smile.
James took a step closer, swallowing up the distance between us. “Careful, Em. Tease me too hard, and I’ll have to make sure you know exactly who you want. If you think I’ve used every trick in my bag, you’re wrong. I’ve still got plenty more.”