Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Spencer
As I rush around my house, setting everything up, I can’t help but smile. I left work early. Not just sneaking out of the office a little before five, but I left at three. I couldn’t concentrate after my lunch with Charlotte. The fact that she thought I didn’t want her was laying heavy on my mind. I could see it in her eyes. She’s ready for more. She knows that sex has nothing to do with us being together.
It’s time.
Time for me to make love to her. Love is the optimal word here. She’s my entire world, and she doesn’t know it. At least not from my words. I hope that my actions tell her everything that my words can’t. I know there is something that is holding her back. Something that keeps her from going all in, and until I identify what that is, I won’t tell her.
I know me, and I recognize that not seeing that same love in her eyes, hearing those words echo back to me, will kill me. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and never thought I would be lucky enough to have.
She has all of me.
Glancing down at my wrist, I forgot that I had taken my watch off when I came home and changed. I turn to look at the clock on the wall and see that she’s ten minutes late. Walking into the kitchen, where my phone is on the island, I pick it up to call her to make sure she’s all right, as Charlotte is always on time. There’s a knock at the door.
Keeping my phone in my hand, I rush to the door and pull it open.
“Hey.” My sexy girl waves and smiles.
“Why are you knocking on the door?” I ask.
She steps in close and wraps her arms around me while we stand here in the doorway. “I don’t know,” she finally says.
“Come in.” She keeps her arm around my waist as we walk inside. “Did you bring an overnight bag?” For what I have planned, she’s not leaving.
“Yeah, it’s in the—” She stops when she realizes that the lights are down low. Soft music is playing in the background, and the dining room table is set for two, with candlelight setting the mood.
“What is all of this?” She turns to me, looking for an explanation.
“I wanted to take you out to dinner, but I also didn’t want to share you.”
“You sleep next to me every night,” she reminds me.
“It’s not enough.”
“Is this some kind of scheme to convince me to move in with you?” she asks, teasing in her tone.
“No. You know I want you here. Or if not here, that we have the same address, wherever that might be. My place, yours, or somewhere new.” I pull her into my chest, locking my arms around her waist. “I know that when you’re ready for that, you’ll let me know.”
“So, that’s all I have to do? Tell you I want something, and you make it happen?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even hesitate.” She’s grinning, and I vow to always make her smile like this.
“I’ll always try like hell to give you everything you could ever want.”
“I think I should try this theory.” Her hands that are resting on my chest move to lock behind my neck. “I wonder what I could ask for?” She kisses me under my chin.
“While you’re deciding, how about you let me feed you?”
“You cooked?”
“No. But I did bake one of those premade lasagnas and put together a salad, and I managed not to burn the garlic bread.”
She chuckles, and the sound fills not only my home but my heart with love for this incredible woman. “Next time we’ll make homemade lasagna together.”
“It’s not going to be as good as yours, but you didn’t have to cook it,” I tell her, making her laugh again.
“It smells so good. I didn’t realize I was hungry until you started talking about it.”
“Come on, Charlie girl. Let me feed you.” I lead her to the dining room and pull out her chair. “I’ll be right back.”
“Can I help?”
I lean over the back of the chair and kiss the top of her head. “You can sit there and look beautiful while I make our plates.” I step back before I get carried away, and move to dish out the food. My house, much like hers, has an open concept, so she can still see me from where she’s sitting at the table.
“You know a girl could get used to this,” she says.
I stop what I’m doing and look at her across the room. “Good.” I hold her gaze until her cheeks turn pink and she looks away. I go back to dishing up. It takes me a few trips to drop off our plates of lasagna and salad, the garlic bread, and our drinks. Two tall glasses of lemonade follow, because I want us to have our wits about us tonight. I am not missing a moment of what I have planned for us.