Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Finally, reluctantly, Casey set Emma back down on her feet and left. Landon didn’t look disappointed to see the back of her. He held out his hand for Emma’s and picked up the bag Casey had set down. “Ready?” he asked me briefly. A formality more than a question, but I pondered it anyway.
Was I ready?
No. There was no way I could be ready to set up house with Landon and our daughter for the next three weeks. It was too strange. Too…risky. It was funny, since we were moving in with him because it was the safest option, but it was risky for me. For the promise I’d made myself to not fall in love with Landon again.
“Ready,” I murmured anyway, and followed him into the elevator.
It was hard to believe it was the same apartment I’d been in yesterday. In the main rooms, the unrelieved black, white, gray, and chrome had been softened with blankets and throws and even knickknacks – the kind Landon hated. I fingered the corner of a luxuriously soft cashmere blanket and shot him an amused glance.
“I told you I’d fix it,” he said blandly. To Emma, he said, “Do you want to see your room?”
“My room?” she asked, startled.
Landon looked at me over her head. We still hadn’t told her. We still weren’t sure how. It seemed like the kind of thing you should do with an army of therapists after hours of prep, and we hadn’t gotten that far.
“Yes, baby. We’re going to be staying here for a few weeks, and he wants you to be comfortable!” I said brightly.
“Oh! Thank you!” Emma put her hand trustingly in Landon’s and let him lead her down the hallway. I expected him to turn into his office, but he walked to the end. He’d turned the bigger spare bedroom into hers.
“I’m impressed,” I murmured, looking around. When I’d last seen it, it had been a guest room as impersonal as any hotel room. Now it was a little girl’s haven. “Your decorator did a great job.”
Landon nodded, his eyes fixed on Emma as she ran from the wallpaper to the bed to the lamp and then threw herself down on the plush rug in the middle.
“I love it!”
I doubled back down the hall to drop my bag in what had been his office and was now the impersonal guest room. It had the same silk gray comforter and crisp white sheets I remembered from years ago, the look that could have been pulled straight from the Hilton. The only difference was that now it smelled faintly of vanilla. I couldn’t help but notice how close Landon’s bedroom was. The door, slightly ajar, directly across from mine. If he hadn’t changed the layout of his room, his bed was only fifteen feet from mine, at most. I wondered if he still slept naked, then tried to squash the flutter in my stomach at the idea.
Stepping back out into the hallway, I caught his eye as he came down it.
“She added a candle,” he said, coming to a stop in front of me.
“What?”
Landon gestured into the room. I looked behind me and saw a large bowl candle with five wicks on the bureau. I would have noticed it before if I hadn’t been distracted by the proximity of Landon’s bed because it was the brightest spot of color in the room. It was also responsible for the vanilla scent I’d noticed before.
“Nice,” I said, looking back at Landon.
He looked grimly amused. “You like it?”
I still hated it, and he knew that. I appreciated all the work the interior decorator had done, and I appreciated Landon hiring her to do it, but all the throw pillows and candles in the world couldn’t change the fact we were trapped in a glass box at the top of the city. The lush, tropical paradise I’d raised Emma in felt like a world away instead of just an ocean.
“It’s only for three weeks, right?” I asked, dodging the question.
“Only three weeks,” Landon agreed, his expression unreadable.
13
LANDON
There was a time when I’d eaten grilled cheese two meals a day–sometimes three. Bread was cheap, especially when you got it from the bargain bin because it was about to mold. The Kraft slices of cheese were cheap, too. On a good week, I’d peel two or three of them out of their plastic envelopes and fry the bread with mayonnaise. More often, I nicked single-serving butter packets from the diner down the street and toasted one piece of cheese between the slices of bread that were graying at the crust.
I hadn’t eaten a grilled cheese sandwich in over twenty years. Not since I graduated high school and joined the Army. I fucking hated the sight of them.
So when Cami told me Emma’s favorite food was grilled cheese, I fought my churning stomach and said, “Okay, that’s what we’ll make tonight.”