Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Henley’s eyes shoot up. “No wine?”
“Not for me, thanks. I’m not in the mood for drinking.”
The waiter smiles over at me. “And you, sir?”
“You know what?” Henley closes the menu. “I’ll behave too. Sparkling water as well.”
The waiter leaves us alone.
“You can have wine. Don’t not drink just because I am.”
“It’s no fun on my own.” He smiles as he takes my hand over the table. “Looking at you gets me drunk anyway.”
My heart swells . . .
“You know, I love this version of you.”
“What version of me?”
“The one who doesn’t watch what he says.”
He chuckles and looks away as if embarrassed. “Well . . . it’s been . . .” He shrugs.
I cut him off. “It’s been good for us.”
“How so?”
“Well, I honestly believe everything happens for a reason.”
He leans on his hand and steeples his pointer finger up the side of his face as he watches me. “And what do you think was the reason?”
“It was a lesson.”
“On what?”
“Life.”
He frowns. “How so?”
“For me, the lesson was to not let go of what I truly want and deserve. I knew that we were more and had a real shot at a future together. It would have been so easy to keep being friends with benefits just so that I could have you.”
He nods as he listens.
“What did you learn?” I ask him.
He thinks for a moment. “That I missed you.”
I smile softly over at the gorgeous man in front of me and take his hand in mine. “I missed you too. What else did you learn? What was the lesson in all of this?”
He exhales, unsure how to answer my question.
“I’ll tell you what I think the lesson was.”
“Please do. I’m clearly hopeless with lessons.” He smirks.
“When the chips fall down and things get hard, you lean into the light.”
“What do you mean?”
“You lean into the light, Henley.”
“What’s the light?”
“Love. Love is the light.”
His face falls as he listens.
“Love used to scare you, but it’s a shield. It will protect you. I . . . will protect you.”
His nostrils flare as his eyes hold mine.
“I love you.”
He squeezes my hand in his.
“When things get hard, you lean into the light.”
“And what a beautiful light you are,” he whispers.
The waiter comes back with our two glasses of sparkling water. “Here you go.” He places them down onto the table.
“You know what?” Henley says. “I’ve changed my mind. Can we order a bottle of the best champagne you have, please? Two glasses. We’re celebrating.”
“Of course, sir.” He disappears once more.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask.
His eyes twinkle with a certain something. “You.”
Aftershave brings me out of my coma, the heavenly scent permeating the bedroom. I drag my eyes open, and as my vision centers, I see Mr. James dressed in his suit, ready for his day. “Good morning.” He leans down and kisses me softly, his lips tenderly hovering over mine. “You look angelic in my bed.” He cups my face in his hand and smirks. “Optical illusion,” he mouths. “I know better.”
I smile sleepily. “What time is it?”
“Time to get up.” He stands and walks to the dresser and puts his expensive watch on. “I brought you coffee.” He gestures to the side table, and I look over to see a steaming cup of coffee sitting beside me.
I pull myself up to lean against the headboard and pick up my coffee.
“What are you doing today?” he asks as he hangs my robe up in the bathroom.
“I have the day off.”
He walks around the bedroom tidying. “And what do you have planned for your day off?”
It boggles my brain to watch him. This is why his house is so immaculate. He cleans it at five thirty in the fucking morning. Ugh, do we have anything in common at all?
“I’m having lunch with Joel.”
He stills, and his eyes meet mine.
“To apologize for Saturday night,” I say in a rush. “This lunch was planned already because we are going over roofing options. It has nothing to do with us going on a date.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No!” he replies. He goes back to tidying the bedroom.
I put my coffee down. “What do you mean, no?”
“No, you’re not going out with Inferior Interiors.” He flicks a T-shirt before he folds it. “There is no need to go to lunch. You text him and tell him that you are with me now.”
“What?”
“If he doesn’t respect that, then he will have to answer to me.” He fumes as he walks around organizing his room.
“Henley, I need to tell him in person.”
“Tell him what, exactly?” he snaps impatiently.
“That I’m going out with a caveman now who thinks he can tell me what to do.”
“I don’t think it.” He glares at me. “I know it.”
“You know that you can tell me what to do?” I gasp, offended.
“Listen,” he snaps. “That prick interior decorator has been after my girl since day one, so don’t act offended when I refuse to put up with it.”