Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He watches me, a patient look on his experienced features. It’s like he could listen to me all day.
I’ve never had that kind of attention, and definitely not from my crush.
No, not crush, not anymore, the man who wants the same as me.
My everything.
“There’s something so brave about tattoos. We put them there in…in defiance, I think.”
He keeps staring, silently telling me he wants me to keep going. He doesn’t have to say anything.
It’s like we’ve skipped a bunch of stages. The need allows both of us to act like a couple who’s been together for years.
“We don’t care if we won’t feel the same one day. Or if we might not like it. Or any of that. We put it there as a big middle finger to the world, a way to say, ‘I’m here. I’m beautiful. I don’t care what you think.’”
He grins, sticking his middle finger up. “I’m here. I’m beautiful. And I really don’t care what you think.”
I reach out, making to grab his finger, and he quickly moves it away.
Of course. No touching.
“Maybe I’m just talking crap.”
“No,” he says firmly. “There’s definitely something to that. And I like hearing about how you fell in love with your craft.”
We eat for a minute or so. I’m careful not to let the juices from my burger drip down my chin, but then the sauce explodes out the other end all over my hand.
I place the burger down, about to freak out for a second.
But then I see Silas giving me a look that says, ‘it’s not the end of the world.’
Suddenly, I find myself laughing, and he does the same. He’s not laughing at me. We’re doing it together, at the absurdity that I’d need to get flustered about this when we can just laugh since we’ve got each other.
He grabs a napkin and leans over, dabbing at my hand.
“Thanks,” I say. “And I was being so careful. Maybe I should’ve ordered the salad.”
“No damn way,” he replies. “I want that curvy body of yours strong for the baby.”
“For the baby,” I murmur. “Like our little boy or girl is here already.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and have twins on the first go,” he says, his voice low, probably conscious somebody could overhear.
I wipe my hand again. “This is sticky. I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
Maybe he can hear something in my tone. Maybe he’s just that good at reading me like he says.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just…not being able to be us in public. But I can’t complain. I don’t mean to. And I really need to wash my hands.”
“I get it,” he tells me as I turn away. “I feel the same too. Soon, though.”
I look at myself in the mirror as I wash my hand, in my jeans, shirt, and slightly red cheeks. Nobody would believe this woman is going to be Silas Stone’s wife.
But I won’t think like that.
He chose me, the same as I chose him.
Soon, though….
The words repeat in my mind as though taunting me, haunting me as I sit down.
“I think we should tell him soon,” I say.
Silas nods, his eyes glinting, his jaw going tight. It causes his temples to pulse. Suddenly, it’s like he’s that man again, the one before the revelations, who snapped at me that we never happened.
“What is it?”
When he smirks, I press on, “That’s right. I can read you too.”
“We have to tell him,” Silas says. “We’re going to. But it doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. Every time I even think about it, it’s like my mind starts playing a slideshow of all our best memories.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“There are so many. The time he yelled at me to race the final mile down what we were calling Madmen’s Mountain. The look on his face when he told me he was getting married to your mom. How happy he was to become a father….”
Silas leans back like his own words are hurting him.
“How can he ever understand?”
“He’s supportive of my dreams to start a family,” I say quickly. “He always has been.”
“Did you ever tell him about your crush?” Silas asks. “Did you ever say, Dad, every time I talk about finding a husband, I’m talking about your best friend?”
“No, obviously not.”
We’re quiet for maybe half a minute.
“I’m sorry,” Silas says. “I didn’t mean to get angry. There’s no world in which I forget you, us, where I let you go. But it is really one of fate’s cruel jokes, the fact you’re his daughter.”
“I know.”
“He said he wanted you to find the right man.”
“You were talking about me?”
Silas nods. “He told me he supported you wanting a family. But he’d have to be the right man. How can I be that man after what I did? After pouncing on you like that in the office? After not telling him first?”