Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
That she was my wish.
That Brianna somehow lived on through her.
That love never dies.
That life is not lost.
That Penny was one of life’s magical mysteries.
“I’ve never believed you were out of your mind, Penny,” I tell her. “I think we both had a lot of feelings we were trying to process.”
It’s her turn to stare at the sky for answers. “I agree. I think feelings can be like toddlers. They can be messy, out of control, and driven by wanting things they aren’t ready to have. But they’re still vulnerable, and full of hope.”
An accurate analogy.
After a few minutes of silence and uncertainty, I give her foot a quick squeeze, then stand and hold my hand out to her. “It’s late,” I say, pulling her up to her feet. “You’ve been traveling all day; you should get some sleep.”
She holds on to my hand and stares dreamily into both my eyes. I hope she likes the prosthetic and isn’t weirded out by it. The familiar tingling buzz rumbles from my feet to my scalp. I focus on her fingers—long and soft. No longer the child’s hand that held mine so many years ago when I walked her home.
“He’s my Alex,” she’d said so matter-of-factly back then.
I guess I have been, in one way or another, ever since.
Reluctantly, I pull my hand from the warmth of hers. “I’ll walk you to the house.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, and we silently follow the path back home. “Aren’t you coming inside?” she asks when I open the back door and hold it open for her.
“Nah. I’m going to go do some things in the studio for a bit.”
Her misty green eyes rest on mine again as she grasps the edge of the door. The glint of the ruby ring catches my eye. I’m sure she’s never taken it off.
“I could keep you company,” she offers with a lilt of hope in her voice. “Like old times. I’d love to see some of your new work.”
Nothing would make me happier than to have her in my space again—my little partner in creative crime, my sounding board, my eternal cheerleader. How easily we could slip back into our yesterdays. But the fear of saying or doing something to hurt her again holds me back. Not for the first time, I worry that while Penny might be my beacon, I might be her storm.
“Maybe another time. I kinda want to be alone.” My words come out colder than I want, but maybe that’s for the best.
“Okay.” Her shoulders sink slightly. “Good night, Alex. Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
“G’night.” Turning, I head to the barn, but can’t stop myself from pivoting around after a few steps.
“Hey, Penny?” I say, walking backward.
She pauses halfway through the door. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here. Not just in my thoughts.”
She smiles and slowly nods before disappearing into the house.
I spin back around just in time to catch a shooting star high in the sky—a real one this time, not a pendant on a necklace. And once again, I’m not careful what I wish for.
Chapter 43
PENNY
Closing the door behind me, I lean back against it, pull in a deep breath, then slowly exhale.
My heart is racing. My limbs are trembling. My fingertips are tingling.
“It’s just nerves,” I whisper to myself. Just normal anxiety and butterflies from seeing the man I’m in love with for the first time in four years.
It’s totally normal. It doesn’t mean I’m having a relapse.
I’m fine.
I mean, what woman wouldn’t feel all jittery being around Alex Fox? He oozes sex appeal in a bad-boy way that women are inexplicably drawn to. The perfectly messy hair. The muscles. The charming smile. The quiet, brooding artist vibe. And those chestnut eyes. I always thought the eye patch was sexy, but looking into two hooded bedroom eyes made me feel like I was dissolving into a puddle.
Lily had told me about the prosthetic eye months ago over the phone, but I never expected it to look so real.
Or that staring into his eyes would render me breathless.
I also wasn’t expecting his words, which are still haunting me as I stand here in the kitchen, still using the door to hold me up. Every minute of my days and nights are invaded by thoughts of you.
I wanted to kiss him right then and there and forget about all the awkwardness and the politeness and the uncomfortable gray area of uncertainty between us. I just want to go right back to where we left off that day in the barn—to kissing and talking together about a happy forever.
But as wonderful as that would be, I know it’s not realistic. While time has the remarkable ability to heal, it also has the capacity to carve a deep abyss. A lot can change in four years, and I can’t delude myself into thinking Alex is the same man who made promises to a girl on a ruby ring. I’m certainly not that same girl.