Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
He grins up at me. “That’s my plan.”
I smile, scissor my hips, and push against his chest, reversing our positions. I turn the tables on him, kissing his body, rubbing myself over him, and when he’s groaning and moving uncontrollably, I rise up and lower myself over him, taking us both on the ride of our lives.
* * * *
“I love you too, you know,” I murmur later when we’re recovered and tucked under the covers, watching the boats skim over the lake through the large windows. “And this view.”
“Whoa, don’t change the subject.” He tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes. “Back up.”
“I didn’t want to say it when we were having sex because that just seems… I know, cliché. But I do love you, too. And I’m grateful that you inherited my building and came here to try to kick me out of it.”
“I wasn’t kicking you out exactly.”
“I remember receiving a letter that said I had to leave.”
“Okay, I was kicking you out.”
I laugh and drag my fingers down his cheek. “But I need you to know that after this past week, even if you’d decided to sell, I still would have fallen in love with you.”
“You would have been pissed.”
I nod immediately, not denying it in the least. “Oh yeah. I would have been pissed. And heartbroken. But I would still be here.”
“I don’t ever want to break your heart,” he replies, kissing my forehead again. “What do we want to do with the rest of our day? It’s early yet.”
“Hmm.” I tap my lips and squint my eyes, like I’m thinking really, really hard. “Let’s order room service and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”
* * * *
“Jesus, Ed makes the best damn pancakes in the world,” Brody says the next morning. We’re sitting in Ed’s Diner, which is full to the brim with a few other locals and about a billion tourists.
It is summer in Cunningham Falls, after all.
“And the best omelets,” I agree, taking a bite of my Denver omelet.
“It’s damn loud in here.”
I nod and glance around, a little sad that I don’t recognize many of the customers. It’s good for business because, although tourists don’t usually buy many flowers, I have a whole shop filled with gifts and fun things to browse through and take home.
But the traffic suffers, and some of our sanity suffers along with it.
“It’s amazing how the town has grown,” Brody comments. “It seems to me that the infrastructure of the town wasn’t built for this kind of growth in tourism.”
“You’re right,” I reply. “If we’d come any later this morning, we never would have been able to park. Downtown is a nightmare in the summer.”
“Is it worse in the winter, with ski season?”
“No, because a lot of the traffic is actually up on the mountain,” I reply easily. “In the summer, people come for all outdoor activities, not just the mountain, although there is still a lot of interest up there for biking, hiking, zip lining, and a bunch of other things that the owner has done.”
“Interesting,” he says, nodding.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m an engineer, so all of this is fascinating to me, that’s all. There are ways to alleviate the congestion, but it’s expensive.”
“I like it when you start to use your professional terms,” I say with a smile. “It’s sexy.”
He laughs, takes his last bite of pancake, and pushes his plate away.
“You’re funny, Brooke.” He reaches over to take my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
I blink at him, dumbfounded.
“What is it?” he asks.
“You’re still leaving today?”
“Of course.” He frowns, and I feel the earth fall out from under me. “I was always leaving today. You knew that.”
“I thought—” I scowl and look down at the table, unable to finish the sentence.
So fucking stupid.
“Let’s go.” He signals for our waitress, pays the tab, and leads me out to the car. I drive us to my house where his car is waiting for him, quiet the whole way.
What is there to say? We just admitted to loving each other yesterday, and now he’s leaving.
It sucks. And I don’t know what this means for us.
When I pull into my driveway, I immediately get out of the car and march inside my house, opening windows and doors to get a cross breeze going.
This is the first time I can say that I hate my house. I should have installed the fucking air conditioning.
“Stop,” Brody says softly. He’s standing in the middle of my living room, his hands in his pockets, watching me with tormented eyes.
“What?”
“Stop this. You’re running about here like mad, and you just look pissed off. We need to talk about this.”
I feel my shoulders fall in defeat. “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch here, Brody, but I’m not sure what there is to talk about. You’re leaving, and I’m here. So, thanks? It was fun? Have a nice life?”