Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Nope,” is all I say, forcing my focus to stay on the road in front of me—a feat in and of itself when all I really want to do is drink in the woman sitting next to me.
It feels like I’ve been sporting a semi for seven days straight over the thought of having Stella to myself for an entire weekend—and now that she’s riding shotgun in my truck, I’m counting the miles and the minutes until we’re well and truly alone.
It’s more than the physical stuff though; I’m just as eager to just relax with her, to unwind and for us to stay up all night talking like we used to.
That’s not to say I don’t want to fuck her on every available surface of the cabin I rented, because I do. I want to make her scream my name so loudly that even the bears in the woods know she’s mine. But I also want to cuddle her and talk and just spend time with her.
“Ugh. Well, how much longer until we’re there?”
I risk a glance her way as I merge onto TN-66. “In this traffic? About an hour or so.”
“We’re going to Gatlinburg?”
“We are.”
“What are we going to do there?” she asks, her eyes burning a hole in the side of my face.
“Anything you want.”
“Anything?” Stella sits up a little straighter in her seat.
“So, if told you I wanted to stay naked in bed the entire time, we could?”
I grip the wheel a little tighter. “Fuck. Yes.”
“And if I said I wanted us to sleep in separate beds and to go hiking every day, we could do that too?”
“Sure could,” I reply mildly, hoping like hell she’s only messing around.
“Hmm.” She leans forward and fishes a tablet of some kind out of her bag. “I’m going to read until we get there.”
I drive in silence as she reads, smiling as she laughs every couple of pages. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and I ask what she’s reading.
“Do you really want to know?”
“How can I buy you books and shit if I don’t know what you like?”
“You… you want to buy me books?”
“I want to get you anything that makes you smile and laugh like you have been for the last ten minutes.”
“It’s a rom-com about a country music star and an adult summer camp.”
“Adult summer camp… that’s a thing?”
I see her nod from the corner of my eye. “Apparently.”
“And what’s happening to make you giggle like that?”
“Um.” She flexes her fingers in her lap. “Do you really want to know?”
I nod.
“It’s kind of hard to explain—um—the hero and heroine are at an anything but clothes party at camp and they’re going skinny dipping, and—”
“There’s an idea,” I murmur.
“What?”
“Skinny dipping.” I turn to her and wag my brows. “Is this the same book you were reading on your birthday?”
She giggles and I swear to God, the sound penetrates all the way down to my heart. “No. I’ve read like two books since then.”
“That’s… a lot of reading.”
“But I love it.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her, but I swallow it down. We’re not there yet. “Books and gardening. What else do you do for fun now that you’re all grown up?”
Stella taps something on the screen on her tablet before powering it down. “You act like you were gone for years rather than months.”
My heart thumps painfully against my ribs—this is the first time she’s mentioned my absence without malice or hurt. “Maybe, but sometimes it feels like you’re a totally different person.”
Stella makes a little sound of protest, so I rush to add, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, Luna. You’ve grown into this fierce, sexy woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to take life by the horns. You’re smart and funny and—”
“Are you saying I wasn’t all of those things before?”
“Yes and no,” I answer honestly. “You’re harder than you were before, and I know—and hate—that it’s my fault. But at the same time, I think you know yourself better. You know your wants and needs and worth. It kills me that I hurt you, but I think… now, you’re no longer willing to settle. Now, you’re more than willing to demand what you know you deserve.”
She reaches over and clasps my hand. “Being with you was never settling, Samson.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. My mind, however, is working overtime, trying to think of ways to make sure Stella knows exactly how I feel about her.
Telling her I love her won’t cut it—I have to show her. You could tell her brother about y’all’s relationship, my brain shouts, but the driveway for the cabin comes into view before I can give the idea much more thought.
“We’re here,” I murmur, pulling onto the winding gravel trail.