Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Where I live is surrounded by water but not like this. It’s so wild. Open,” she breathed out. “Breathtaking. Inspiring.”
I was pleased. “Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We can explore a bit after. Come eat.”
She let me lead her to the blanket, and we sat down. Her eyes widened. “This looks amazing!”
I grinned. “I had a place I know make it.”
They had outdone themselves. We had small croissants stuffed with tempting fillings, chicken and avocado roll-ups, a mini charcuterie board, a pretty tomato salad, chocolate-covered strawberries, tiny cream puffs. A bottle of my favorite white wine, chilled. Napkins, utensils, everything we needed to enjoy the small feast. They’d even provided real glasses for the wine, and I smiled as I handed her the red rose I’d asked them to include.
Her blush was soft as she took it from my fingers. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the fragrance. She met my gaze. “Thank you for tonight,” she said simply. “I had a wonderful time.”
“It’s just started.”
“It’s already the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
I handed her a plate. “Me too, Shortcake. Me too.”
We ate and chatted. About nothing. The view. The small town she lived in and the family she grew up with. Our favorite colors. Ice cream. Her small feet. My larger ones. We laughed as we stretched out our legs, comparing them.
“Your toes are very long,” she observed.
“Yours are little stubs. Pretty color, though.”
She wiggled her toes, leaning back on her hands. “I like to paint my toenails often. Today felt like a burnt-orange day.”
I slid my hand over hers that rested between us. “Like the sunset.” It was already getting dark, but I had thought ahead and brought a couple of battery-powered lanterns with us. They added a cozy glow to the air.
“It was spectacular here.”
“I know.”
We strolled along the cliffs but far away from the edge. I wrapped my arm around her waist, tucking her close to my side, and carried a lantern in the other. It was different. I couldn’t recall the last time I wanted to be this close to a woman. Needed to touch her constantly. All during dinner, we had touched. Fed each other bits off our plates. Shared small kisses. Held hands. She touched me often while talking. My arm, shoulder, or the top of my leg. I kissed her knuckles, tucked stray strands of hair behind her ear, stroked her cheek. Pulled her earlobe while teasing her.
“No episodes today?” I asked. “I was watching. Your eyebrow never twitched.”
“No, I was fine. I wasn’t nervous today after you arrived.”
I stopped walking, turning to face her and gazing down. “You were before I got there?”
“I wasn’t sure how to act. After the pool. Last night.”
“How did you expect me to act?”
She shrugged, looking self-conscious. “I don’t have a lot of experience, Nick. It could have been a momentary lapse of judgment. A moment. I wasn’t sure if…” She trailed off.
“If?” I prompted gently.
“If you felt something too, or if it was just me.”
I slid my fingers under her chin, lifting her head. “I felt it too,” I assured her. “I know there is a lot of press out there about me, Mila, but it’s just that. PR. MJ is of the mindset no press is bad press. She encourages the rumors and stories to keep my name in the media. Most of it is just BS. I’m not a playboy.”
I bent and brushed her lips with mine. “I don’t know what is happening right now, and I’m not questioning it. I’m just trying to live in the moment and enjoy it.” I kissed her again. “I don’t do that very often.”
“You don’t?” she whispered, rolling up on her toes and kissing me back.
“No. My life is scripted, Mila. I do what I’m told. Go where I’m told. Play the parts I’m told to play. I lose myself in the characters so I can forget what a miserable life I have outside the set.”
“You hide yourself?”
“I have to.”
She played with the hair at the back of my neck, making me shiver. We both were keeping our voices low, sharing secrets, the rest of the world disappearing for now. Allowing the other person to see our vulnerabilities.
“The only place I feel like Nicholas is with you. And you come totally unscripted.” I smiled, tracing a finger down her cheek. “Unscripted with Mila.”
She returned my smile with one of her own. It was wistful and shy. “Sounds like a book.”
“A best seller if you ask me.”
Our eyes locked, silent words in our gazes. Trust, tentative and warm, flowed between us. Other emotions swam in the depths of her incredible gaze. I wondered if she saw my internal struggle. I had so much to tell her. So many things she needed to know about me. As if she felt the tug-of-war in my head, she cupped my cheek, tracing along my jawline.