Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Of course,” I said, letting Parker take the lead. At every step, she explained the changes she’d made, and my sense of homecoming grew. I knew part of this was about Parker finding work she loved and excelled at. I loved that for her. But the rest was about her making a home for Nicky and me, and she’d worked her ass off doing it. When we were done, I caught her in a tight hug.
“Thank you, Parker. So much. I love it.”
She squeezed me back. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad it came out so well.”
“It’s beautiful,” my mother said, reaching to give Parker her own hug.
Scarlett called us to the table, and I poured the tea, using my new mugs for the second time. Something about sharing a meal at the table, even a small one, was the final piece in making the cottage feel like home. It would take me a while to remember where we’d put everything, but I was about as moved in as I could be in one day.
Later, after dinner at the Manor, Nicky and I walked back to the cottage for our first night in our new home. It felt good, but weird, to unlock the door to our cottage and set the alarm behind us, the light from the lamps golden against the falling dark outside.
Nicky took forever to fall asleep, too excited by his new room to settle down. I’d been worried that he would be anxious all alone in his bedroom on the first floor with me upstairs, but once I rubbed his back for a few minutes, he relaxed, chatting to me about his ideas for his new room until he finally ran down and his eyes stayed shut.
Since we’d returned to Sawyers Bend, we’d either shared a room or been separated by only a thin door. I knew we needed our own space, and I was more than ready to have some privacy, but as I turned off Nicky’s light and checked for the nightlight in his little bathroom, it turned out I was the anxious one, not him. I was too aware of the quiet around me.
What I needed was a long hot bath in my new soaking tub and an early night.
The soaking tub was heaven, complete with the bath salts I’d been holding on to for ages and had never used. Skin soft, muscles relaxed, I clicked on the gas fireplace opposite my bed and crawled between the smooth sheets, cuddling under the heavy duvet. Tears gathered in my eyes, my heart too full of everything. I loved this gorgeous cottage. My decadent bath, the marble counters in the kitchen, the fireplace in my bedroom. I felt spoiled and loved, so much so that my heart ached with it.
But beneath that, I realized as a tear streaked down my cheek that I was lonely. I was used to being in the heart of the Manor, surrounded by thousands of square feet of solid stone. The cottage was well built, but it was separate. The privacy from the main house I’d wanted so much suddenly seemed lonely. The Manor was so far away, the night dense and dark, the forest so close.
It wasn’t that I was afraid. Hawk had eyes everywhere, and no one was interested in the Sawyers’ housekeeper. If anyone did get through Hawk’s security, I was probably safer here than in the Manor. But with Nicky fast asleep downstairs and me up here in my very adult, private bedroom with a door that actually locked, I felt more alone than I had since Oliver died.
My mind drifted to Finn. I hadn’t seen him since dinner, and we hadn’t had a moment alone together. I told myself it was for the best. Really. I was exhausted, and he’d been moving furniture all day. I didn’t need him.
But I wanted him.
I looked at my phone on my bedside table. If I texted Finn, he’d come. He might have a sarcastic comment or tease me, but he’d come. And then I’d come.
I didn’t text Finn. I wanted to, but I was afraid to. Mostly, I didn’t text Finn because I didn’t like how I felt. Like I wasn’t just lonely, I was lonely for Finn.
The first was acceptable. Normal.
The second? That was a problem. Finn was for orgasms. Not for filling my lonely heart. Never for that.
And the sooner I got that straight, the better off I’d be.
Chapter Twenty-Five
SAVANNAH
I was going to break my neck on the attic stairs. Even though I’d been up and down them a thousand times, this time I was navigating them as I brought down dusty plastic bins filled with documents stacked two high. Manila envelopes, stiff and dark with age. Clothbound journals. Scraps of paper, some tissue thin, some stiff, all of them faded. I could have asked for help, but we were stretched thin as it was, and I didn’t want to pull April or Kitty away from their tasks just to help me with some storage bins. I’d be fine. As long as I didn’t break my neck.