Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“It’s . . .” I look around once again. “It’s more than I expected. Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?”
“Is that an invitation?” Seemingly catching himself, he leans down and whispers, “I’ll be good.”
That’s the last thing I want him to be. Behave, Cate. You’re a mess because of this man. “That’s too bad.” I did, in fact, not behave, giving him every mixed signal known to humankind. It’s cruel at this stage. Good thing I came prepared like he did.
I win a smile bordering on seductive, a devilish look in his eyes fixed on mine that has me feeling both to my core. After clearing my throat, I say, “I saw a bath on the schedule. Maybe I can bump that up and take one during the hour allotted for freshening up? Of course, I can wait if it’s a strict timeline.”
“We’re flexible around here. I can draw you a hot bath now.” He walks into the bathroom, still talking, “You can relax while I prepare some snacks to tide us over for the evening.”
Drawing baths.
Preparing snacks.
Flexible to my needs.
I fall back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
To say I’m not charmed would be an injustice. I’m not even sure he’s the same person from last year. So much drew me to him beyond the circumstances back then. Sexy. Magnetic. He knew exactly how to make a girl go weak in the knees and her panties disappear.
I’m not that same girl anymore, though.
He’s still the most captivating man I’ve met, absurdly sexy, and affects me like no other man ever has. But the change in him is profound. Set in his eyes like a goal he’s striving for, he’s not only after my body. He’s after my soul.
This is new. And I very much approve.
“The bathtub is filling, but I need to get—”
I lift my head from the bed, my arms still wide and legs dangling over the edge. “Need to get what?”
He scrubs a hand over his face as if he needs to clear some thoughts away. “I brought things you might like.”
Propping up on my elbows, I ask, “What kind of things?
“Bath salts. Bubble bath. Wine.” He reaches over his shoulder and scratches the back of his neck, so sweet and lost, stepping out of familiar territory and into mine. “The lady at the store said you might like a bath bomb, so I bought ten.”
My eyebrows shoot straight up along with my spine. “Ten? We’re only here for two days.”
“I know, but I couldn’t decide,” he says, “and they all smelled like something you would like.” My eyes water, and I open my mouth to get more air. I don’t want to cry in front of him, but I’ve never been spoiled like this before in my life.
I push off the bed and go to him, tugging on his shirt at the waist. Shameless, but it’s getting harder to stay away. “Shane, you’ve done too much. Thank you. I’m so grateful, but you didn’t have to do all that.”
“I know. I wanted to.” His eyes dart to my hands on him, and he drags his tongue across his lower lip. “I should go grab the basket.”
“Basket?” Is it wrong to feel this happy when we haven’t worked through all the issues? I’ve been softening my stance since he said he was sorry with his heart on his sleeve. He felt it, but he also felt the loss of me. Two things that drive me to forgiveness, even if selfishly. He didn’t have to redeem himself, but he’s doing it and going all in.
“Check the water to see if it’s to your liking. I’ll get the basket so you can choose what you want to use.” He slips out of my hold and leaves the bedroom.
A part of me thinks it’s for his own need to keep things from progressing physically. Emotionally, though, he’s never been more in tune with my needs. He’s wooing me. God, I can’t wait to repay him.
I see him through the window, trekking across the yard again. It’s so tempting to spy, to see if he’s hiding his emotions from me, so I do. But the smile on his face can’t be mistaken. That man knows what I was doing. Not behaving, that’s what.
Scooting into the bathroom, I test the water. Am I surprised it’s the perfect temperature? No, he’s doing everything right and reading me like a book. I wonder which is his favorite chapter.
He returns, slipping in through the open door to the bedroom. When he sees me, his face lights up like it’s his birthday. Holding the basket out to me, he says, “It’s all yours. Can I bring you a glass of wine? Sparkling water? Soda?”
“Do you have white wine or red?”
“White. The kind I remember you drinking at your apartment.”