Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Ah,” I say with much wisdom. “We could get to know one another better by finding points of commonality. They’re important in relationships.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s talk about goals,” I suggest. “Life, career, whatever.”
He doesn’t even need to think about it. “I want to make some money, buy the place next door to where I live, and drive the Transalpina Highway in Romania.”
“In what kind of car?”
“A really fast one.”
“Are you going to visit Dracula’s Castle while you’re over there?”
He raises his brows. “Haven’t actually thought about it. But it would be interesting, wouldn’t it?”
“Why do you want the place next door?”
“My house is kind of small. Having just the one bedroom and office is fine for now, but eventually I’m going to need more space,” he says. “What about you? What are your goals?”
“I want to make the New York Times Bestseller List.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. For now,” I say. “And given the list is curated, it’s a lot harder than you think. My dream was to live in a small town by the sea, and I am doing that, so…”
“Good for you.” He smiles. “Where will you head when your lease is up here?”
“I haven’t decided what I am doing yet.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “How did you choose Port Stewart?”
“I wanted the opposite of where I grew up, so the Pacific Northwest made sense. Then I read up on coastal towns and this one sounded nice.”
The expression on his face is not supportive. In fact, the downward slant of his eyebrows is judgmental as heck.
“You don’t approve of my flippant research technique? Or you don’t approve of me frivolously moving around the country?”
He raises his shoulder in a half shrug. “I just wonder what people like you are looking for. If there’s even a chance you’ll find it, or if you’ll just get bored and set off on the next big adventure.”
“Okay,” I say, choosing my words with care. This conversation suddenly has sharp edges. “Well, in my case, I’m looking for a place that feels right for me.”
“This is my point. How do you even quantify that?”
“Wait. What are you saying?” I ask. “Do you really think that I, a grown-ass woman, am incapable of understanding my own feelings?”
His mouth opens then closes again. A wise choice on his part.
“Not all of us were lucky enough to be born where we feel we belong, Connor. For some of us it takes some searching.” I think calm thoughts for a moment. Walks on the beach and bowls of breakfast cereal—things like that. But it doesn’t really help. “Does your reaction have something to do with your ex not wanting to settle down here, do you think? Or just a general disdain for people who come from the city?”
“I’ve insulted you.”
“No shit.”
He sighs. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Sure.”
And neither of us speak.
Seems we’ve successfully managed to push each other’s buttons. He says nothing and I say nothing and this goes on for a while. Long enough for us to start fidgeting and feel uncomfortable. He looks so damn miserable. Like this night is an abject failure before it begins.
“What?” he says when he catches me watching him.
“You know we don’t have to go,” I say, choosing my words with care. “You could disappear right now and it would be okay.”
Nothing from him.
“Or we could try to shift this mood and go have a casual dinner like you first suggested. Or open a bottle of booze, sit on the couch, and stare at the TV in a comradely fashion,” I say. “After you apologize to me for being a jerk just now, of course. But Connor, you have options.”
“None of those are going to fix my problem.”
“No. But fuck those people.”
His gaze remains grim. “You mean my friends and family and half the town?”
I nod.
For a long moment, he just stares at me.
“If you don’t want to go, Connor, then let’s just not go. We’ll do something you want to do tonight. This situation doesn’t get to suck the joy out of your life all the time.”
Without a word, he steps forward and wraps his arms around me. Just presses all of him against all of me with nil hesitation. There’s nothing sexual to it. No. This is something else entirely.
I frown in confusion. “We’re hugging?”
“We’re hugging,” he confirms, giving me a squeeze. The man’s moods are mercurial. But having him wrap himself around me is sublime. The feel of his strong arms holding me tight. It’s warm and safe and sort of everything. He really puts his heart and soul into this hug. I give it twelve out of ten. Would hug again. “You’re a good person, Riley.”
“That’s just a vicious rumor,” I say, smooshed against his chest. “You’re going to get makeup on your shirt.”
“I am sorry about what I said. When you find your home, I’m sure you’ll know it.”