Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
But the kind of kiss I want to give her? She’s not ready for that yet.
Instead, I kiss her cheek again, loving the texture of her soft skin against my own lips.
Then I take her key card from her, hover it over the reader on the door, open it, and watch as she walks in.
She turns back toward me. “Good night, Ben.”
“Good night, Tessa.”
She shuts the door, and I hear her click the deadbolt.
Then I enter my own room.
I fire up my computer, but the words are blurring.
Yeah, I had a lot of Wild Turkey.
I’ll deal with all this bullshit another time.
I shut the laptop and go to bed, with visions of Tessa Logan’s lips in my head.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tessa
I wake in the morning, and for the first time in a long time, I actually feel like getting up.
What I really want is a long talk with Skye, but I can’t bother her. This is her weekend to spend with her fiancé.
I text Betsy instead.
Tessa: You up?
No reply. Just when I’m ready to give up, I see the three dots move.
Betsy: Not yet. You need something?
Tessa: I was looking for a breakfast companion.
Betsy: Sure. Let’s do it. I should shower first.
Tessa: I didn’t shower. Just throw on a bathing suit and a coverall, put your hair in a bun. Meet me out on the beach.
Betsy: Breakfast on the beach? That actually sounds fab.
Tessa: Awesome.
I throw my hair into a messy ponytail, put on a red bikini, and wrap a red-and-black sarong around me like a strapless dress.
When I walk out of my hotel room, I stare at the door in front of me.
Ben is behind that door.
Ben, who I asked to kiss me last night.
Ben, who I dreamed of.
Well…I’m not sure it was a dream. I know he was on my mind as I drifted off to sleep, and I didn’t have a nightmare last night.
That’s got to be a good thing.
I amble down the hallway and then down the one flight of stairs to the first level.
The kitchen is sounding with clatters, but I’m going to have my breakfast on the beach.
Ben arranged for servers to be available from six in the morning until midnight.
I find a cabana, grab two lounge chairs, pull them under the cabana, but then I change my mind and drag them back out under the sunshine.
Before Betsy arrives, a handsome server wearing no shirt approaches me. “Good morning, miss. What can I get you?”
“A cup of black coffee, please. And a plate of fresh fruit with two strips of bacon.”
“Coming right up.”
I’m glad I actually feel like eating. Fruit sounds good. Some succulent juicy fruit and a cup of strong coffee.
Betsy arrives, taking the lounge chair opposite me. “How are you doing, Tessa?”
I sit up. “I’m doing okay, Bets. But I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course anything.”
“Stop asking me how I’m doing. I need to stop ruminating.”
Betsy smiles. “It’s wonderful to hear you say that.”
“Yeah. I feel like I’ve spent my life being self-absorbed. First when I left my parents’ house. I was solely focused on me, all the things that had been denied me in their religious home. I was always focused on what I wanted to do. And now, after Garrett, I find I’m still focused on me. Only for a completely different reason.”
“You have a pretty good reason this time, Tessa.”
“But that’s just it. It’s not a good reason. I’m alive.” I stretch out on the lounger and feel the sun’s rays on my skin. “I’m on a beautiful Jamaican beach. My best friend in the world is marrying the man of her dreams. So I’ve been through something. I’m getting help, and today, for the first time in a while, I actually felt like getting out of bed, Betsy.”
“That’s wonderful,” she says. “We should tell Skye.”
“Absolutely not. If Skye shows up, I will tell her. But I refuse to make this weekend about me.”
“It’s funny that you say you’re so self-absorbed, Tessa,” Betsy says. “I’ve never thought about you that way.”
“You haven’t known me that long.”
“It’s not self-absorbed to want to live in the moment.”
“Maybe not, but I wasn’t content to just let Skye be happy with Braden. I made it all about me. About how I was feeling about the whole thing. And it led me to a place I never want to go again.”
The server returns with my fruit plate and coffee.
“Good morning, miss,” he says to Betsy. “What can I get for you this morning?”
Betsy eyes my plate of fruit. “I think exactly what you got her. But put a little cream in my coffee, please.”
“Absolutely.” His dark eyes twinkle at Betsy.
Betsy blushes as he walks away.
“So you think he’s hot?” I say.
“Don’t you?”
“I haven’t seen a man on this resort who isn’t hot yet.”
Except for that bartender last night. He gave me the creeps.