Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
She laughs. “Um, I remember you did that once. I wouldn’t speak to you for over a week.” She pokes my ribs. “I wasn’t wearing any pants under my t-shirt, you idiot.”
“The bunnies on your panties were cute,” I say solemnly.
Now, she’s definitely awake, letting out a squealing laugh as she swats at my chest.
“Maybe, but the entire neighborhood didn’t need to see them!”
“Relax, woman. Wouldn’t dream of doing that shit now,” I growl, running my hand down to her ass. “My eyes only. Anybody else who gets a look will spend the next month finding some overpaid fuck to put his nose back on his face.”
“You wouldn’t!” She gasps.
Would.
I beam back a vicious glare.
“Besides, you got no right to complain. You got me back pretty good. Don’t tell me you forgot?”
Those pretty pink lips curl smugly.
“Yep. I bit you on the ass—and you deserved it.”
I grin. “You want to do that again? It’ll end a whole lot different this time.”
“Oh my God, no. I haven’t even had coffee. Let me wash my face at least and get some caffeine in my blood before you go wearing me out again.” Smiling, she settles with a sigh, folding her arms against my chest and resting her chin, looking at me with lazy, half-lidded eyes. “It’s so strange, isn’t it? All these old memories... Like, we’re still the same people, but something else, too.”
“Yeah. A whole lot’s happened in ten years. Makes you someone else entirely.” I catch a lock of her hair, twining it between my fingers. “We got a lifetime of history, but we’ve missed a lot of little moments. All the shit in between that’s made us who we are now.”
“It’s crazy,” she says quietly. She’s like a lazy feline, turning her head to rub her cheek against my wrist. “It’d be nice to fill in that ten-year gap. Find out just what you turned into.”
“Me? I’m not so different, really. Just bigger and more tired.”
The morning's magic makes her damnably hypnotic.
I bury my fingers in her hair, fisting it as I pull her in for a morning kiss.
Her body pressure makes her breasts crush against me and I groan.
I’m taking my sweet time this morning, savoring her lips in small hot sips before pulling back. “A little more honest, maybe. I’d sure as hell love to know what you’ve been doing in Miami all this time.”
“Wandering around in circles, mostly,” she answers.
There’s a sharp moment when she just looks at me, something haunting her gaze before she smiles.
There’s a hell of a lot there between the lines.
Old pains, regrets, a life she never settled into—and having her here like this, thank fuck she didn’t.
Ophelia rests her head on my shoulder again and I hold her close like I’ve always wanted.
“Truth be told, I think I was looking for home,” she says slowly. “But home was always here. Maybe not this godforsaken town, no, but Mom. Ros. You.” A deep sigh drops her shoulders. “It shouldn’t have taken Mom getting horribly sick again to bring me back. I’m kind of embarrassed...”
“Don’t be. Space has its uses. You needed to find out who you were away from the bad vibes here,” I point out.
That strange smile returns.
“You make it sound so easy, Grant, when here I’ve been struggling to figure out how to say that for years. But yeah, I guess I did. Not sure I found anything new... I’m still just Ophelia Sanderson, now with an RN behind my name.”
“Do you miss it? Your work, I mean?”
“...a little,” she admits after a silent moment. “Maybe not as much as I should.”
I skim my fingers up her arms, feeling the goose bumps they give back.
I’ve never been good at comforting words, but I can be here for her.
I can hold her close, listen to her worries, hang on every word.
“You want to tell me more?”
“I don’t know, honestly. I just—” Her fingers settle against my hand, stroking me like some kind of animal, then playing through my chest hair. “I think I did it out of guilt, if I’m honest. I tried orthopedics at first, but it wasn’t the right fit because there was something missing. Like the fact that if I was going to leave home behind, then I thought I should do something to help people like Mom. Only, they weren’t lucky enough to recover. Hospice care is hard work.”
I nod solemnly.
My heart drums with the fact that I’m looking at one of God’s own angels, dropped on this miserable spinning rock to bring a little comfort to the sick and dying.
“First you learn to care for these people,” she continues, biting her lip. “Then you learn to let them go when it’s time. You have to—that’s part of life and death—but it never gets easier. The same rough cycle, over and over again. Not something I ever thought would be my calling. But I cared about them, still.” There’s a telltale quiver in her voice, in her mouth. Her brows pinch together. “I don’t know... you’d think after saying goodbye so many times that I’d be okay with Mom, whatever happens. I just wish—oh, God—” Her voice breaks.