Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I’m almost done with my coffee when I see him walking out of the forest. He’s staring straight ahead, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, his hair longer than I’ve ever seen him wear it. Knowing how soft and silky it feels under my hand makes my fingers tingly. His eyes are on me the whole time he makes it across the yard. “Hey,” he says when he gets close enough, “I was hoping you would be up.”
“Is that so?” I try to get my heart rate to return to normal, but whenever he’s around me lately, it’s like he’s the air I need to breathe, which makes me hate myself a little bit more.
“I was wondering if you were busy.” He smirks at me, the Charlie smirk that you always want to see.
“I’m on my way to go to lunch with the pope,” I retort. He throws his head back and laughs. A full-on laugh I haven’t heard since that fateful night. A sound I didn’t know I missed, yet now that I heard it, I want to hear it again. The lightness in his eyes is mesmerizing as he stares at me.
“Well, if I could maybe persuade you not to go to lunch with the pope, there is someone I want you to meet.” All I can do is stare at him; my eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Why don’t you get changed?”
“Who am I meeting?” I ask, standing up and walking over to the steps. With him on the step below, we are face-to-face. It would take nothing for me to wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him and take the kiss I want, but know I can’t ever get.
“There is this horse we got.” The minute he says the words, I can’t help that my face beams as my eyes go big. “I’m assuming you are okay with that?”
“I mean, it isn’t the pope,” I joke with him, “but I think he can take a rain check. I heard he’s a bit busy on Sunday anyway.”
He puts his hands on my hips, and I stop breathing. “If he gets to spend time with you, I bet he’ll take what he can,” he says softly, his eyes going from mine to my lips. My mouth opens a bit as the tip of my tongue comes out to run across my lower lip. Both of us just stand here until he closes his eyes for a second, then opens them back up. The hunger and need are still in them, but it’s a different look than he’s given me. “Go get changed.” His hands squeeze my hips. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“Okay.” I turn around and head inside, putting my mug in the sink before walking to my bedroom and taking off my sweater. I grab a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless black high-neck T-shirt, tucking it in the front, before brushing my hair and brushing my teeth. Putting on my old worn boots, I walk out and see him sitting on the swing. His arm is outstretched across the back, and all I can think of is cuddling up in his arms, which is silly since I’ve never cuddled with him. Sure, after we fucked it out and we turned on our side, neither of us wanting to face the other, I would always wake in his arms.
His head turns to me. “You look nice,” he compliments, getting up from the swing. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be.” I put my phone in my back pocket as I follow him down the steps toward the forest.
“Do you work today?” he asks as we walk over to his barn.
“Yeah, I have to be there at five.”
“I’ll make sure to get you fed and back by then,” he assures me, his hand grazing mine as we walk, his index finger hooking onto mine. The heat from his hand fills me as we step out of the forest and into the clearing, heading toward the red barn.
I stop walking when I see the big house across the way. I put my hand up over my eyes to see it clearly. “That wasn’t here the last time.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We built it a couple of years ago. It’s where I live now.” My stomach lurches as I look at the house, shocked that he moved. “I’ll give you a tour,” he mumbles as we walk into the side barn, and I follow him down the concrete hallway to a stall. “Hey there, girl,” he says softly. “This is Goldilocks,” he tells me before turning back to talk to the horse. “Brought you a friend.” He holds up his hand, and I see the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen. She’s a light blond with a white mark down the front of her forehead. He turns to me. “I told her about you.” My body moves back a touch as he talks to her and then looks back at me. “She’s a bit skittish,” he cautions, “but once she trusts you, she’s fine.”