Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
He spins around to face me, full-blown smile still engaged, but I don’t quite return it. It’s hard to feel happy right now when I feel like I’m constantly lying to someone I love like a sister.
Of course he notices. “Wow. Don’t look so happy to see me.”
“Get real, Beau. I’m always happy to see you.” I laugh, smiling in apology. “I’m just… I don’t know how much longer I can do this…”
His eyes widen, his hands come up, and his fingertips dig into my hips as he stands. “Do what?”
“The secret-keeping,” I answer, my voice just barely over a whisper. “I know it was my idea not to say anything and all, but I don’t think I can lie to Avery much longer. It’s killing me.”
“Let’s tell her, then,” he says straightaway, and panic locks up my chest.
“Now?!” I feel like a psychopath, given the fact that I’m the one who just said we shouldn’t keep it a secret, but I’m scared. Terrified, actually.
How will Avery even react? Will she be mad? Furious? Hate me?
He reads me correctly, and his face gentles as he suggests, “How about next week? We’ll get through Thanksgiving first, and then we’ll tell the whole family. That way, you don’t have to stress about the holiday being awkward.”
“Okay.” I let out an exhale of air on a whooshing rush. A grateful smile follows. “Yeah. That’s a good plan.” I stare up into his gorgeous, entrancing eyes, and it’s almost pathetic how quickly my mind shifts. “Though, I’m not entirely excited about not being able to touch or hug or kiss you.”
He smirks, squeezing my hips gently. “We’ll find our moments.”
“When?” I whisper.
“Every chance we get.” And he punctuates that statement by flashing a secret but sexy wink at me.
His hand finds mine, our fingertips dusting together lightly. It feels forbidden and top secret, and I’m ravenous to cross all the boundaries I should keep firmly in place.
I want his lips on mine and our bodies pushed close together. I want to feel his heartbeat in my chest and have him touch the wetness between my legs.
It’s a dangerous urge, one I can tell he’s considering giving in to just as much I am by the swipe of his tongue across his teeth.
I tingle as we move a little closer, the hum of our bodies vibrating nearly audible between us. I smile and he winks again. Temptation taunts us both.
“Hey!” Seth’s voice snaps unexpectedly into the space. I jump, but Beau manages to stay still. I turn around woodenly, hoping all the dirty things in my mind don’t show on my face. “Juniper, I’ve been looking for you. I need you to go down to the graphics department and pick up my prototypes.”
I nod quickly, springing into action. I don’t look back at Beau as I scoot past Seth at the door and hurry down the hall, and I don’t hear what they say after I’m gone. But it’s not because I don’t want to.
Longing to do just that burns at my skin as I force myself away, knowing I have to act as casually as possible in front of everyone in this office. Especially Seth. He’d be the worst person of all to find out what’s going on between us. He’d love more than anything to find controversy where Beau is concerned. Which, considering the mess he and Bethany created a year ago, is the most ironic form of irony possible.
But Seth and his shenanigans aren’t my focus for long.
Beau’s words repeat in my mind. We’ll get through Thanksgiving first, and then we’ll tell the whole family.
Soon, we’re going to tell Avery, and then Neil and Diane. The people who are my found family, and the ones I care more about than almost anything in this world.
We just have to get through Thanksgiving first.
Glitter-festooned stalks of corn crisscross under the sconces at the sides of the Bankses’ arched front door as Avery pulls to a stop in front of her parents’ house. And as I hop out of the passenger’s side door, the gift I found in our building’s mailroom when we were leaving burns a hole from its spot inside my purse.
I want to open it, am damn near desperate to see what’s inside, but I’m also fearful over the hope that’s been blooming in my chest ever since I pulled it out of our mailbox.
It’s officially Thanksgiving, and from the décor that greets us on the outside of the Bankses’ house, I know Diane has ensured this year’s day of thanks is a true celebration. Just like she always does.
Avery runs ahead of me, chattering on the phone to one of her many suitors, and shoves through the front door without knocking. My entrance is much more mindful as I follow her at a walk, closing the door behind us.