Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Palmer vehemently shook her head. “Sit down, you’re embarrassing me.” Kent reluctantly sat. Their gazes met, and Kent saw so much turmoil in Palmer’s eyes that his heart broke. He caressed her cheek. “You’re not in love with me, Kent. I don’t want you to think you have to give me everything. I’ve said from day one, I didn’t want any pity. I’ve accepted my fate, and I’m okay with it.”
Kent scooted under Palmer and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I can think of a million things to say right now, but something tells me you wouldn’t believe a single one of them. So, I’m going to be blunt. Palmer, I fell in love with you back in DC. I’ve been too afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to tell me my feelings were misguided. Every day, I’ve thought about kissing you to show you how much you mean to me, but I didn’t know how you’d react. It’s been a struggle to keep my hands to myself when you’re lying next to me, when all I want to do is be with you.”
Palmer’s breathing hitched, and a small gasp escaped. She covered her mouth, making Kent wonder if she was at least smiling.
“So, believe me when I ask if you’ll marry me, it’s because I want to marry you. I want to be your person, Palmer.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Kent wiped them away as best he could. “I’m dying.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he retorted. “Every day I see a little bit of you slipping away from me, and it kills me that I can’t do anything about it. Every day I see the light dim from your eyes and you fighting like hell to stay in this world. Every day, Palmer, I tell myself that today’s the day—we’re going to sit down and write out your requests—and I struggle with how I’m supposed to ask you—who takes care of you after you’re gone?” Kent cried as he spoke. He had no idea what was supposed to happen to Palmer after she died. Was he supposed to leave her at the hospital and go home like nothing had ever happened? He never wanted to bring the subject up because it made Palmer’s impending death so much more real.
“I want to be your person, Palmer,” he reiterated. “I want to hold you in my arms when you take your last breath. I want to be the one who takes your body to your final resting place. I want to be your husband, and you my wife, even if it’s for one day, one week, or one month, because it’ll be worth it.”
Palmer never took her eyes off him as he spoke, even through the copious tears. She cried hard as she nodded and mouthed, “Yes.”
“Let me hear you say it. Will you marry me?” Third time’s a charm.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll marry you.” She went to hug him, but he stopped her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He looked into her eyes, wiped away her tears, and cupped her cheeks. “I love you, Palmer.” With those words, he brushed his lips against hers. Softly at first until she responded in kind. Her hands gripped his wrists, as if she needed to hang on to him. She gasped and shivered when his tongue traced the outline of her lips until they parted.
Kent moved slowly, confidently. When she opened for him, his world exploded in a prism of emotion. He had never felt this way about anyone. He felt his need for her grow and his love for her deepen as she molded her mouth to his. Her fingers trailed up his arms and over his shoulders until her palms pressed against his cheeks. Kent smiled as her fingers brushed against his stubble, and he worried about giving her razor burn. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. Their breathing labored, they sat there on the ground, with her on his lap, unaware of their surroundings.
“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time.”
“Me too.”
“Ah, don’t tell me that,” he said jokingly. “I hate thinking we’ve wasted time.”
“None of this time has been wasted, Kent.”
He pressed his lips to hers again. As much as he wanted to make out, he wanted to get them back on the road to Las Vegas. They now had a wedding to plan. “We should get going.” He tapped her hip, a signal to stand. He held her hand while she climbed off his lap and then stood. They folded the blanket together and then walked back to the car, holding hands.
“This used to be my favorite part of the day,” he said as he held their linked hands up. “I have looked for every excuse possible to hold your hand. It fits perfectly in mine. Don’t you think?” He turned their hands from side to side, showing her how perfect they were.