Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The hot magma that had been flowing in his veins, prepared to erupt over a vile insult toward Tallulah, cooled immediately. “Wait, that’s it?”
She spun around in his arms. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”
“I mean, he insulted me, not you? That’s what pissed you off enough to call him a motherfucker and threaten to break his glasses?”
“Yes!” She scrubbed circles on his chest with her palms. “He doesn’t even know you!”
Holy shit, she was really, honest-to-God upset. And . . . was she attempting to soothe him by rubbing his chest? The very possibility made him feel immortal. He usually defended other people, but . . . she’d come to his defense? That meant a lot. But number one on his priority list was making her feel better. Immediately. “Tallulah.”
“What?”
“Do you have any idea what kind of names I’ve been called on the road? Hell, I’ve been called worse by my own teammates.”
She blinked up at him. “So?”
He stroked the side of her face. “‘Neanderthal’ doesn’t even rate, gorgeous.”
“Oh yeah? Then why did I want to stab him in the throat?”
I’m going to marry this girl someday. “I don’t know,” he said, winded by the vow he’d just made to himself. “You tell me.”
Possibly realizing she’d revealed too much, Tallulah bit her lip and turned back around, allowing him to gather her back against his chest, not even protesting when he started planting kisses on her hairline. She’d found her voice today . . . all because some geek insulted him? What did that mean and why did it make him feel like his chest was disintegrating?
“If someone insulted you,” he said, taking a handful of her hair and tugging, looking down into her upturned face. “I would do a lot worse than break their fucking glasses.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Good.”
He could kiss her right now. She wanted to be kissed. But whatever pandemonium was taking place inside of him all but guaranteed he wouldn’t be able to stop—and she wasn’t ready to sleep together without a no-strings disclaimer attached. Therefore, even though it pained him, he let go of her hair, allowing them to regroup while the baseball game played out in the distance.
“Whatever caused you to stand up to someone who made you uneasy, Tallulah, I’m proud of you for doing it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, too.”
“I am . . .” She shifted against him. “I am, but I still have a long way to go. I think I’ll know I’ve overcome what happened when . . .”
“When what?”
“I don’t necessarily want to go on adventures alone all the time—I just want to know that I can. Without being afraid. Once I’m strong enough for that, I’ll call my family. In Istanbul. I’ll be able to speak to my sister and know I kept my word.”
He couldn’t swallow around the goose egg stuck in his throat. “I think that day is closer than you think.”
“Yeah. In the meantime, I have the postcards.”
“Postcards?”
She nodded, reaching down to unzip the purse that was strapped diagonally on her body, resting against the front of her left hip. After the briefest of hesitations, she removed a ziplock baggie containing a stack of postcards. He could only see the top one, which was an aerial shot of Boston Harbor.
“I’ve been sending home postcards for four years. On all of my stops. Most of them go to Lara. I tell her I’m having a great time and enjoying myself—and maybe I was, in a way, but . . . I wasn’t out trying new things and refusing to be held back by the fear, like I promised her I would. The postcards are kind of a placeholder for what I’d hoped to do eventually. I’m sure she knows that I was stalling. She could always read me.”
Being allowed into this person’s head would forever be his life’s biggest honor. It was a beautiful, complicated place and he couldn’t wait to explore it. As much as he could for as long as he was allowed. “Then she also knows you’ll keep your promise when you can.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, nuzzling his shoulder with her nose.
They remained that way in the silence, Tallulah wrapped in his arms, the back of her head on his chest, the breeze occasionally traveling along the rooftop to lift her hair, the pounding of his heart drowning out the announcer’s voice.
Tallulah thought she’d be a lot more nervous about skinny dipping, once time for the main event arrived, but as Burgess put the SUV in park approximately fifty yards from Jamaica Pond, a sort of giddiness stole over her. Maybe what had taken place earlier that day had bolstered her confidence or maybe it was the man sitting beside her, stern and unshakable, that allowed her to feel pure excitement, as opposed to concern. Or perhaps it was the thick darkness that allowed only Burgess’s headlights to penetrate it and knowing the black sky would cloak her nefarious adventure.