Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“But you told …” she says now, her voice cracking, and I put a finger on her lips to stop her from talking.
“Did you really think the first time I said anything about me loving you was going to be to someone who wasn’t you?” I smile at her, and she blinks. A lone tear runs down her face, and I wipe it away with my thumb. “That is for you and only you,” I say softly, moving closer to her “Only you, baby.” I lean in and kiss her lips softly. “I love you.” My hand cups her cheek softly. “All of you.” I kiss her cheek with the cut. “Every single part of you.” I move to the other cheek. “For the rest of my life, I’m going to love you with everything that I have.” Her hand comes up and holds the wrist to my hand holding her face.
“Mr. Kitch,” the flight attendant says, “we are ready to take off. Oh, and your father is waiting for your phone call.”
“Mr. Kitch?” she asks me, and I see the question in her eyes. Her eyes go to the television in the corner that has been playing. Suddenly, my picture flashes on the screen. It’s a picture of my father and my brother. Then the picture of us out in New Orleans flashes onto the screen with the ticker at the bottom,
“Oil tycoon billionaire’s son falls for Hollywood’s Princess.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brian
The wheels hit the tarmac, jostling her awake. “We’re home,” I whisper. After I professed my love for her, she put her head on my shoulder and fell asleep in minutes. I pulled her to me and let her sleep while I touched base with everyone on the ground. We definitely had things to discuss, but she needed to eat first, and then she needed to sleep. I let her walk off the plane, and the truck was there waiting for me. I hold her hand, walking to the truck, and wait for her to get in before walking to the driver’s side and getting in. The GPS is already set with address in it.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks me, looking over at me. “Are we in Montana?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “We are going home.” I don’t say anything else. Instead, I reach out my hand and hold hers while she looks out the window at the mountains in the distance. When we pull up to the full iron gate, I press the button on the remote on the sun visor.
The gate opens, and we drive up, and I finally get to see the house I bought. “This isn’t my house,” she says, and I just look at her.
“No, it’s ours,” I tell her, driving past the little creek that runs through the land and then finally seeing the house. The outside lights are on, and you see that it’s two stories. The front of the house looks like wooden logs. Six windows cover the side of the house, showing you the inside, so we are definitely going to have to get blinds. I drive under the awning, but it’s really where the game room sits, and it attaches to the four-car garage that is hidden on the side. It’s held up by thick rock wall arches.
I get out of the car and open hers while she gets out and her mouth just hangs opens. “This house looks magical,” she says, and I look up at it closely and see it really does. There are so many windows all over that you never really could tell in the pictures. The front door sits on the side of the house at an angle with five stairs.
The door is glass as well. “We need to change this door,” I tell her and grab the keys from my pocket to unlock the door. I open the door. “Welcome home, baby,” I tell her, leaning down to kiss her and wait for her to walk in. She does and then she stops right there in the entryway. The house has the open concept with a ceiling so high you need to strain your neck. The back of the house has the same windows as in the front. A staircase on the side leads you upstairs. Walking farther into the house, you see a huge rock wall with a fireplace in the middle of the house. There are four master bedrooms in the house all on the second floor, the hallway in a square around the house and all you see are doors. The railings have clear glass. “We have to go furniture shopping also,” I tell her, looking around and seeing that it’s very rustic, and there are more wooden antlers than I care for.
“This house is so beautiful,” she says, and then she looks at me. “You bought this house?”