The Things We Leave Unfinished Read Online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
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“Go back to the torn-in-two part,” he demanded.

Scarlett laughed. “I’m fine. Really. Nothing abnormal.”

“You’d tell me if something had gone wrong? If you were hurt?” Jameson studied her carefully, weighing her words with her eyes, her face, and the set of her shoulders.

“I would,” she promised. “Though he’d be worth it.”

Jameson’s eyes fell to his son, who looked up at him with quiet expectation. An old soul, then. “What do you want to name him?” They’d been kicking around names for months.

“I like William.”

Jameson smiled, glancing up at his wife and nodding. “Hi, William. Welcome to life. The first thing you need to know is that your mother is always right, which you probably already know, since she’s been saying you were a boy for the last six months.”

Scarlett laughed, but it was softer. Her eyelids were drooping, too.

“The second thing is I’m your dad, so it’s a good thing you look a lot like your mom.” He lowered his lips to William’s head and pressed a soft kiss at his hairline. “I love you.”

He leaned forward and brushed a kiss over Scarlett’s mouth. “And I love you. Thank you for him.”

“I love you, too, and I could say the same.” Her breaths deepened, so Jameson placed their son in the small cradle next to the bed and tucked his wife in.

“Can I do anything?”

“Just stay,” she whispered, fading off to sleep.

That first night was an eye-opener. William was up every few hours, and Jameson did what he could to help, but he couldn’t exactly feed him.

They were already awake at seven a.m. when there was a knock on their bedroom door.

“Probably Constance,” Scarlett muttered with William at her shoulder.

Jameson glanced back to make sure she was covered, then opened the door to find Constance standing in the hallway, blocking Howard.

“You can wait downstairs,” she snapped.

“This can’t wait.”

“What’s going on?” Jameson asked from the doorway.

Howard raked his hand through his hair and looked at Jameson over the top of Constance’s head. “I figured you hadn’t turned on the news.”

“No.” His stomach tensed.

“The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Thousands are dead. The fleet’s gone,” he said with a slight break in his voice.

“Holy shit.” Thousands are dead. Jameson sagged against the doorframe. He’d dedicated the past two years of his life to keeping this war from reaching American soil, while another had sucker-punched them.

“Yeah. You know what that means?” Howard’s jaw flexed.

Jameson nodded, looking back over his shoulder at Scarlett’s horrified expression before facing his friend again. “We’re on the wrong side of the world.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Noah

Scarlett,

How are you, my love? Are you as miserable as I am? I found us a house off-station. Now all that remains are your orders and we’ll be together again. I’ll wait forever for you, Scarlett. Forever…

My arms and back ached as I rolled my shoulders and neck behind the desk. The storm had dumped three feet of snow over the last two days, and it had taken me the better part of two hours to dig out Georgia’s house. Could I have called the plow company? Absolutely, but winter in Colorado made my favorite workout—climbing—impossible, so I’d seen it as an opportunity. I’d also gravely underestimated the length of the driveway.

“Busy?” Georgia popped her head into the open office door, and I forgot every single sore muscle. “I don’t want to interrupt your flow, but I didn’t hear typing so I thought this might be an opportune moment for lunch.” Her smile would have knocked me on my ass if I hadn’t already been sitting.

“You can have whatever moments you want.” I meant it, too. Whatever she wanted, she could have—including me.

“Well, it’s not much, but I whipped up some grilled cheese.” She opened the door with her hip, carrying a plate with two sandwiches, and a glass of what I knew was unsweetened iced tea.

“That sounds amazing, thank you.” I took the coaster from the top drawer and had it on the desk before she reached me. Funny how we’d both adapted so easily to the needs of the other over these last few weeks.

“You’re very welcome. Thanks for digging us out.” She put the plate to the side of my laptop, and the tea on the coaster as I wheeled the chair back a few inches.

“My pleasure.” I gripped her hips and pulled her into my lap. God, it felt good to be able to do that—to touch her whenever I wanted. The last two days had cut us off from most of civilization and allowed us to do nothing but indulge in pleasing each other. This was my idea of heaven.

“This isn’t going to help you get the book done.” She smiled, looping her arms around my neck.

“No, but it’s going to help me get my hands on you.” I slid one hand up the nape of her neck and into her hair, then kissed her until we were both breathless. My need for her hadn’t been sated; if anything, it had only grown. I was completely and totally out of my depth with her, with everything I wanted to happen between us.



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