Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“What?” Cameron asks, whirling around to look at his daughter. “Who gives you that?”
Gracie shrugs and smiles innocently. “Everyone but you.”
Cameron turns a glare to everyone at the table, one by one, and we all pretend like we don’t see it or have any idea what Gracie’s talking about.
“Next time, you’re getting hot chocolate,” Mom threatens Gracie, who seems remarkably unconcerned about the punishment. “No whipped cream.”
“Wow, tough love there, Mom,” Cameron quips.
Gracie just laughs and chews her pizza contentedly. She knows that of all the Harringtons . . . she’s the princess in charge.
CHAPTER 28
JANEY
“That went so good!” I shout happily as we walk in the front door of my house. “I knew it would. I don’t think I even needed my plan. They already knew.”
Cole shuts the door, locking it behind us. “Plan? What plan?”
Oops! Shouldn’t have said that part.
“Uhm . . . my plan to, uh . . .”
“Janey.” Cole raises his brows expectantly. “Just say it.”
“Plan Cole: Recognize the Awesomeness,” I admit with a flash of my hands like the plan was on a lit marquee all along. Cole frowns, not getting it, so I explain, “You said they didn’t know you, so I wanted them to see how awesome you are. But it turns out, they did know! You just didn’t know they knew what they already knew, ya know?”
That makes total sense, I’m almost sure of it. And rather than being mad at my scheming, Cole shakes his head with a smile as he gathers me into his arms. “You’re the awesome one. About that . . . can we talk?”
I watch his smile fall and his eyes go dark and serious, and once upon a time, I would’ve gone into full-blown panic mode, expecting a verbal blindside. Or a hurtful insult, blame, or anger. I was conditioned to anticipate and accept those things, and the only way I could mitigate their damage was by pretending it was something else. Something to get through to get to the sunny day on the other side.
But that Janey’s gone. I healed her, with Cole’s help, so I’m able to give him the moment he needs to collect his thoughts without worry. Words are hard, especially for him, and I can wait.
“This was easier last time,” he grumbles, but I have no idea what he means. He guides me to the couch, and we sit down, facing each other. He reaches to take both my hands in his, takes a big breath like he’s preparing for something major, and then blurts out, “I love you.”
He exhales heavily like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders with the admission. I can’t help but smile, a little confused at the big to-do over something so blatantly obvious. “I know.”
“What?”
“I know you love me,” I clarify for him. “I love you too.”
He smiles, one of the big, almost boyish-looking ones where his eyes light up. “You do?”
“Duh,” I say teasingly, dumbfounded by his disbelief. “Of course I do. Have you met you? You’re awesome, as evidenced by my fool-proof, guaranteed-to-work, complete success of a plan.”
“I have met me. Hence, the surprise at your reaction,” he quips. “I didn’t say it, so I thought . . .”
He doesn’t get it. He’s being self-deprecating, but I actually love his grumpy, quiet self and that, of all the people in the world, he chose to let me inside his secretly tender heart. Well, maybe I kinda forced my way in like a stage-five clinger, but he didn’t seem to mind. Mostly.
“I don’t need the words,” I say. “I’ve been burned by them my entire life, and you’ve shown me that you love me in a million different ways . . . with actions, every single day. When you think of me, consider me, and strive to behave in a way that will make me happy—that’s your love. Your actions are your truth, and I feel them loud and clear.”
I press a hand to my heart because that’s where I feel him.
The way he looks at me makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
His actions are enough for me. But Cole?
I saw his face when his dad said he was proud of him. It put a little spit and bubble gum patch on a crack in his heart that’d been there since he was a child. And his face just now when I said ‘I love you too.’
He wants my words.
Nobody ever wanted to hear me, so I talked to myself because I was alone. Cole thought nobody wanted to listen to him, so he basically quit talking. But somehow, what we need and what we provide are perfect for each other.
“Cole, I love you,” I repeat. Taking his hands, I say it three more times, squeezing his hands each time for emphasis. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”