Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Well… I have an ex. A girl named Susanne.”
“Oh?” My heart thuds in my chest. I don’t want to think about him with someone else.
“She was my high school sweetheart. When I was twenty, I gave her everything I had. I proposed to her with the biggest diamond I could get, which granted wasn’t very large. I was twenty, after all.”
“Wait, you were married?” I say, pulling back.
“No. Engaged,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. “And not engaged for long. About a month later, I walked in on her with someone else.”
“You didn’t!” I freeze where we’re standing, my eyes large as the shock runs through me. Who the hell would cheat on him? She must’ve lost her damn mind.
“I did.” He nods his head and moves me on the dance floor, willing me to keep dancing with him and I relent. I won’t deny him. My poor Charlie. Some dumb girl broke his heart and I hate her for it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing him gently and trying to settle into his arms again. I can vaguely feel and hear everyone around us, but my thoughts are only on him.
“Well, it worked out. The next year, I got a job at a bar. Saved up all my money, worked a ton. Bought Mac’s the second he tried to sell it.”
“And the fiancée?”
“Haven’t seen her since. She moved out of town not long after.”
I lay my head against his chest for a minute, thinking about how he must’ve felt. No wonder he doesn’t want commitment. My voice cracks and I have to clear my throat to tell him, “You know, not all women are like that. Not every woman will break your heart.”
He shrugs, his shirt moving gently against my nose as I stay pinned to his chest. “Sure.”
“Sure isn’t really the kind of answer…” I stop my comment. I don’t know how to make this better but I want to.
He looks down at me, perhaps sensing my earnestness. His eyes trail down to my lips, showing just what’s on his mind.
I close my eyes and offer up my mouth. Charlie kisses me, tender at first, but then with more passion, making my heart race.
I break off the kiss as I become more fully aware that we’re surrounded by other people. “Charlie…”
“We don’t need to talk about my past, sweetheart,” he whispers, cupping my jaw with a hand.
He kisses me again. I can feel people looking at us. Charlie’s family is getting a hell of a show. Still, when he touches me, I feel alive, vibrant. I feel loved and it’s not fair. It’s not fair because now more than ever I don’t think Charlie will ever give his heart away. Not to me. But he has mine and it hurts for us.
I groan quietly when Charlie breaks away to kiss my neck. Lightning bolts shoot through my body at the touch of his lips against my skin.
Then he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Come with me…”
He takes my hand and leads me from the dance floor.
Charlie
Subtle doesn’t suit me but I try to be as subtle as possible as I weave through the family and friends in the ballroom, dragging Grace behind me. She’s holding onto my hand with both of hers, just trying to keep up.
I smile at my aunt sitting at a table close to the dance floor, and give her a small wave, pretending not to see her gesture me over to talk to her.
Grace needs me right now, and I’m not stopping until she’s better.
Specifically, until I get her off and make damn sure she knows she’s mine and I’m hers.
The music and loud sounds of the ballroom fade as I lead Grace through the double doors and down the hallway. Out here, she pulls herself closer to me and I slow my steps to wrap my arm around her waist, looking for somewhere to go for a bit of privacy.
“Where are we going?” Grace asks, her curves pressing against my body as she looks at me with those beautiful doe eyes full of questions.
I catch sight of the coat check down the hall and to the right, and a wicked smile curves my lips up.
Lowering my head to her ear, I whisper, “I need to take care of you.”
I don’t wait for her to respond. She nearly stumbles, although she lets out a small laugh when she does, as I pull her along, opening the half door and walking away from the counter and to the back where there are rows and rows of coats.
“What in the hell?” she says, but her voice is playful. The smile on her face is genuine and I love it. That’s the smile that should have been with her all damn day. With one foot after the other, I walk her backwards in between the two rows of coats and all the way to the back. The light’s obstructed from the hanging linens, so it’s dim, but I can still see the blush on her cheeks.