Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“What about you? Would you like to spend some time here?”
“It’s a beautiful place, Noah. I’m not sure how I fit into this life.”
Gently squeezing my leg, he says, “You’re Max’s mom and the mother of my child. You’re always welcome here.”
Noah hasn’t asked a thing of me since the moment he found out about our son. He’s been supportive and kinder than I probably deserve. He’s not made any threats except when we pushed each other to the brink the other night. And that warning came with no threat of taking Maxwell away from me. Not once.
Dammit. It’s so clear now. I’m in love with this man. And I love being welcome here because of my relation to our son, but I want to be welcome here for my relationship with Noah as well.
I’m so screwed.
What am I going to do?
We set the headphones down, and Noah helps me out of the helicopter. But looking ahead at the large grassy field we’re expected to cross, I say, “There’s no way these heels will make it across this lawn without sinking.”
I reach down to take them off, but he says, “I’ll carry you.” The man is insatiable with this hero ego of his. I’d tease, but I also find him incredibly sexy. Balance, baby.
Lifting me in his arms, he starts across the vast area, holding me like I’m light as air. To say he’s given an ego boost for that would be an understatement. We both win.
With my arm hanging around his neck, I say, “The Westcotts are rich-rich.” I’m joking . . . kind of. Not at all. They’re loaded. It’s the quiet kind of wealth—not flashy and pretentious but the kind where they have a helicopter but choose to do their own laundry. That’s not the kind of wealth I grew up around.
He chuckles. “My brother Harbor put in the helipad last year. We’re all busy, but it allows us to pop in more often. Since I haven’t been gone long, it’s the first time I’ve used it on my own traveling from Manhattan. It was a nice ride.”
I can’t even contain my awe, though I try. “Really nice.”
Setting me on my feet poolside, he says, “And then we can return home tonight. It’s a win.” I straighten my dress, not realizing he’s waiting on me until I look up again. With his hand out in offer, I take it, and we start walking together. “Ready to meet my parents?”
“What?”
He’s chuckling. “It’ll be okay. They’re going to love you.”
I tug him to a stop. When he turns back, I say, “What are you going to tell them?”
“The truth.”
Trying to keep my eyes in their sockets is becoming a struggle. “The truth about Maxwell? I thought—”
“The truth about us.”
“Us?”
He turns toward me, taking my other hand to hold as well. “This weekend has been one of the best of my life. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to introduce you as someone special in my life, someone who I’m seeing more than just tonight. How do you feel about that? What are your thoughts?”
“I . . .” I stare into his earnest eyes and hear the sincerity in his words. To know he feels the same as I do . . . well, maybe not the love part, but to know he feels that this is something special means so much to me. I lean in, close my eyes, and kiss him. When our lips part and our eyes open, I whisper, “I feel the same as you do.”
He smiles, and it’s the sweetest one I’ve seen. He kisses me again and says, “I like hearing that.” We continue to walk with our hands gripping a little tighter. “I still think we need to wait on telling them about Max. It kills me inside to keep Max a secret, but a rushed conversation about it during intermission isn’t the way it should be revealed.”
“I agree, and as we mentioned, tonight is about your sister. Her final performance.”
His grin couldn’t be more genuine as he brushes my hair from my shoulder. “I’m jumping in feet first. If I’m going too fast for you, let me know, okay? We can slow down. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Swooning not only from the way he looks at me like I matter but also that he cares about my feelings has me ready to dive into the deep end with him. “I’m comfortable with this pace.”
“We’re on a steep learning curve here. You up for the climb?”
I’ve not felt this relaxed in so long. That’s one of the most remarkable things I’ve noticed about being in his presence. It’s more than easy; it’s comforting. “I’ve already packed my carabiners.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You climb for real?”
Bursting out laughing, I shake my head. “No. I’ve just watched a lot of documentaries.” We start walking toward the house again. “Did I tell you that I’m really into sports documentaries?”