Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“But you can’t control your feelings,” she argued.
“I can’t. That’s for sure. So why didn’t I see this coming? I should have predicted it—I always fall for the ones who leave, Win. Always.”
Her blue eyes were wide with sympathy. “Have you talked to him about this? Maybe he feels the same way.”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “He doesn’t. I mean, I think he cares about me, but he is not interested in any kind of long-term thing. He’s made that very clear. And his last relationship imploded because his girlfriend expected him to propose when he’d been completely up front about the fact that he never intended to get married.”
“He married you,” she pointed out.
“That was about business. Not feelings.” I took a shaky breath, pushing back at the sob that wanted to erupt. “He doesn’t want to settle down or plant roots. He doesn’t want a family.”
“Not ever?”
“No. I think—I think a lot of his aversion to the idea stems from losing his mom so young,” I said tentatively. “I think his coping mechanism was constant motion. Always looking ahead. Striving for things. He doesn’t allow himself to look back or even be still for too long.”
Winnie sighed, sitting back in her chair. “So what will you do?”
“What can I do? Stick to the plan. Suck it up when he leaves. Try to get over him and move on.” The tears fell freely now. “There must be someone out there who wants the kind of life I want. Who will love me enough to stay.”
Winnie got up from her chair and came around the back of mine, wrapping her arms around me. “There is. I know there is.”
“Watching him walk out the door this morning was so hard,” I wept, “and he’s only going to be gone for two stupid days. I’ll see him Sunday. What is wrong with me?”
“You’re scared, that’s all.” She squeezed harder. “You love him and don’t want to lose him.”
“But I will, and I know it. I guess that’s what I should be glad about.” I closed my eyes. “At least I know it’s coming.”
On the drive home from Winnie’s the next morning, I made a decision. In order to protect myself, I needed to stop the physical stuff with Devlin. Maybe if we took sex out of the equation, my emotions would ease up.
It would be hard, of course, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain it to Devlin without giving myself away, but it was necessary for my well-being. By the time I turned into my parking lot, my mind was made up.
And then I saw his car.
But it couldn’t be. He was in California until tomorrow. He was supposed to be on a golf course today.
I squinted at the Massachusetts plates as my heart started to pound. Was it possible he’d come home early? Had something gone wrong during the interview?
Pulling into the garage, I grabbed my bag, entered my condo through the lower-level door, and raced up the stairs into the kitchen. His jacket was tossed over a chair. Adrenaline surged through me as I hurried down the hall toward the bedroom.
His sleeping form beneath the blankets nearly made me burst with joy. Forgetting all about my vow not to have sex with him, I toed off my sneakers, yanked off my jeans, whipped off my shirt, ditched my bra, and slipped beneath the sheets.
“Hey,” he said, waking up and rolling over to embrace me. “You’re back.”
“You’re back.” I snuggled close to his sleep-warm body. His bare chest. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”
“I changed my mind and jumped on the red-eye last night after dinner.”
“Why?”
“When I thought about sleeping one more night alone in my hotel room or here with you, there was no contest. So I came back early.” He flipped me beneath him. “That okay?”
The seams on my heart began to rip. “Yes. How was the interview?”
“Good. How was girls’ night?”
“Good.”
He kissed me, then sniffed my cheek. “You smell like fruit.”
I laughed. “I was given a watermelon face mask. And I had cucumbers on my eyes. Doesn’t my skin feel nice?”
“Yes.” He rubbed his stubbled chin along my jaw, then whispered in my ear. “I missed you. I really fucking missed you.”
It was as if we’d been separated for months, the way we clung and kissed and clutched. And just when it seemed like we’d smothered the fire, it would flare up again. We stayed in bed for hours.
Later, we threw on jeans and sweaters and took cups of coffee out onto the small deck overlooking the woods. There was only one chair, so Devlin pulled me onto his lap. The fall air was cool and sharp, but the sun was out, warming our faces.
“So the interview went well, huh?”
He nodded. “I think so.”