Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I was certain he never allowed them to see the sides of Jesse I saw.
His teasing. His gentleness. His terrible poem-making skills.
I knew he’d never built a garden box for someone.
And he certainly never allowed another woman to put flowers by his front porch or look after his dog.
I sighed, hugging my knees, thinking of yesterday. He was incredible. His protective side was something new to me. No one had ever shielded me before the way he did. Even knowing he had gone after Chris once was a surprise, but finding out he’d done it already—before we were even really together? It made my chest ache with some unknown feeling.
He was, hands down, the most incredible lover I had ever been with. Commanding but gentle. Rough yet careful. So sweet at times, I wanted to weep. He touched me with feeling and intent. He wanted my pleasure as badly as his own. He was a rare gift.
And I suddenly needed to be close to him again.
I slid from bed, pulled on his T-shirt, and hurried downstairs.
He was at the table, Lou’s journal open and the letters from Gerard to one side. He glanced up as I came in, and I stopped in shock at the round, metal-rimmed spectacles on his nose.
“You’re wearing glasses.”
“I need them for fine print,” he muttered with a frown.
I sighed. “Every time I think you can’t get hotter, you surprise me and do just that.”
He smiled with a wink. “And every time I think you can’t be sexier, you show up in one of my shirts.”
I beamed at him, and he held out his hand. I took it and let him pull me to his lap. He pressed a kiss to my head.
“You’re up early,” I said, reaching for his steaming cup of coffee.
He chuckled. “Stealing my shirt, my coffee, my he—” He cut himself off. “My, ah, heat at night. God, your feet are cold.”
I tried not to react. He was about to say heart. I knew it.
And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
So I let it pass. “You were hogging the covers.”
He nuzzled my neck. “Liar. You were wrapped around me, with the comforter jammed all around your legs and arms. I barely had enough to cover me.”
“Well, you were still warm,” I replied, tilting my head to give him more access.
He pressed a kiss to my ear. “Hot-blooded.”
“I’ll say.”
“Pour us more coffee,” he instructed, bumping me off his knee.
I poured us each a mug and sat across from him, drawing one leg up to my chest and pulling his shirt over it. He lifted one eyebrow at my action.
“You’re stretching the material.”
“You stretch my pussy every time you ram yourself in there,” I replied.
He sputtered into his coffee. “Ram myself?”
“Well, you know, pop the porpoise, hide the salami, insert yourself. Whatever you like. You really should come with a warning. Wide load or something.”
He threw back his head, laughing so hard, tears sprang from his eyes.
“Have I mentioned how good you are for my ego?”
“Maybe.”
He hooked the chair with his foot, dragging it and me closer. He kissed me hungrily, then sat back, looking pleased. “Well, you are.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee, internally grinning. I did hog the blankets, but I would never admit it. And he was above average.
But I loved it.
I indicated the table. “You’ve been reading.”
“I have. Quite the story.”
“I don’t know how much my mom knew—if they ever talked about it. I hope they did. I hope she was able to share some stories of her life.”
“I called Sims.”
“Already?”
He took a sip of coffee, looking serious. He was still wearing his glasses, the round rims giving him a professor-type look. It suited him. “I told him you found the journal and what you thought she wanted. He said you were right.”
“What would have happened if I hadn’t?”
“Sims was a good friend to Lou and knew her wishes. He would have scattered them if a year had gone by. But he said she hoped you would be the one to do it. It meant a lot to her.” He paused, taking my hand. “You meant a lot to her—even after all this time.”
I nodded sadly. “I wish I had found her sooner.”
He squeezed my hand. “Maybe then, we wouldn’t have found each other.”
I blinked at his words.
“I think Lou hoped we would,” he added.
I had to admit, I thought he was right.
“Anyway, Sims was going to call the funeral home, and we can pick up the ashes today. It’s a little overcast, but tomorrow is supposed to be sunny. We could scatter them then?”
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll get the box of pictures down from the guest room closet, and we can go through it later.”
“Okay.”
“I was hoping for breakfast?” he asked. “Maybe one of your omelets?”
“I can do that.”