Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
She cocked her head. “I don’t mind at all, as long as when you get back, you fill me in on the whole story.”
He laughed again. “Will do.”
Once he left the room and she heard the door to the second bedroom close behind him, she let out a long breath. It was getting easier to act like he hadn’t crushed her heart and soul when she was fifteen. It helped that he was no longer cranky and seemed to be in better spirits, despite the fact that he seemed to have gone from one disaster to another tonight. But there was still that voice in her head that told her not to trust him because he had hurt her so badly before. The voice that told her men were all scum. That she had abundant proof. And yet, even as that voice was shouting its warnings, some instinct inside whispered that she should ignore it and just let herself enjoy being around Malcolm. Because when he wasn’t being snappish, he was actually really nice company.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost burned the sandwiches. Instead, fortunately, they turned out perfectly—crispy on the outside, especially where some of the cheese had melted onto the edges of the bread. She could smell the salty butter and the fresh loaf of bread that she had cut just minutes earlier. Her mouth watered. This wasn’t her normal breakfast, nor did she usually have a midnight snack, but it seemed to fit all the bills. She had just finished putting the sandwiches on plates when Malcolm reemerged.
“That smells amazing.”
“I hope it will be.”
He nodded toward the roof. “What do you say we grab a couple of rugs to wrap up in and sit on the rooftop deck? It’s a nice night.”
“The rooftop deck sounds great, but you want us to wrap up in rugs?”
“Sorry, I forgot you call them blankets in the States.”
“Oh yeah, blankets equal rugs here. I read that in a book recently. And a tank top is called a vest, right?”
He nodded. “You’re practically British now.”
“Practically,” she joked back.
They grabbed a couple of thick blankets from the arms of the seating in the living room—or as he called it, the lounge—and headed up the narrow stairs to the rooftop deck.
She sighed, gazing up at the stars twinkling in the clear sky. A crescent moon added to the romance. “It is a beautiful night. Honestly, I don’t know how you ever leave this houseboat. I know I said it earlier, but every second I spend on it just gets better and better.”
An owl hooted, and they could hear the rustle of an animal prowling around in the night, maybe a cat in the bushes on the other side of the towpath.
He picked up his sandwich and bit into it. “Toasted cheese sandwich perfection,” he exclaimed. He took another bite, saying, “If you weren’t so busy with your bibliotherapy and reading retreats, I’d say you should open a popup shop and sell these.” He leaned back. “Then I’d take your franchise global, and you’d be the official toasted-cheese-sandwich queen.”
She felt all glowy inside from his compliment. “Thanks. They turned out well. I almost burned them, but that extra handful of seconds in the pan made them even crisper.”
They smiled at each other, the moon above them.
Then suddenly, the air between them seemed to change, and she felt a little shy, ducking her head to eat her sandwich.
Malcolm had brought their cups of tea while she carried up the plates, and she took a sip as she looked out over the river illuminated by the moon.
“Josie, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you. Something I’ve wanted to say for a long time.”
She almost spit out her tea. She knew what was coming, and she did not want to go there, not back to that awful night when she was so enjoying this one. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s ancient history. We were just kids.” She was pleased at how breezy she sounded, like his words hadn’t crushed her teenage heart.
“I do. I have to apologize. We might have been kids, but I was the worst kind of teenager. I was thoughtless and hurtful. What I did, what I said, was absolutely unacceptable. Also, it had nothing to do with you.”
Her chest ached just from having him bring up the whole sorry scenario again. She really didn’t like thinking about it. And she really didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks for the apology, but—”
“No, please, hear me out. I’m not telling you this to make excuses, but I do want you to know more about what happened. Why I did what I did. And I also want you to know that it was a wake-up call for me.” His expression was serious enough that she decided that she would hear him out, even if talking about it was painful.