Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Tommy put his phone on the table and Holding Back the Years by Simply Red played. We sat at the table, and he lifted his wineglass up. I lifted mine.
“To beautiful sunsets,” he said.
“To beautiful sunsets,” I parroted.
“And winning at hide and seek or tag or whatever that was,” he added, watching me closely.
“Congratulations, champ, but I’d say there were no losers in that game.” I dipped my glass in his direction and then took a sip.
He winked at me and had the biggest smile on his face. We dug in to the delicious food.
After a few minutes of serious chowing down of Nita’s gorgeous food, I came up for air.
“So, no one knows about this place?”
He nodded, swallowed a mouthful of wine, and said, “Nope. Every guy needs a retreat. Every guy in my line of work needs a safe house. So, this is both for me.”
“But you brought me here,” I said. “Isn’t that against man cave rules?”
“Rules schmules.” He reached across the table and took my hand. “We needed to get away. I think maybe we should stay tomorrow night, too. Totally detox. But I’ll have to call in tomorrow and see what’s up before I’ll know if I can do an extra day. Would you wanna do that?”
“Sure,” I answered.
“Cool. We’ll stop by and see the Crenshaws tomorrow. Then if everything’s kosher, we’ll come back. If not, we’ll go back to the house.”
“Okay.”
After a few minutes of silence where I felt an odd and intense vibe coming from him, I piped up again, wanting things light and airy. “How long have you had this place and your house?”
He swallowed, wiped his mouth with a napkin, took a sip of wine, then answered. “Pop bought me the house a few months back. I’ve had this place a year and a half. Before the house, I lived in a condo down near our office. I started renting that out to my brother when Pop bought me the house.”
“He bought you a house?”
“For my 29th birthday, yep. Should’ve known that was the prelude to getting married.”
I frowned at him. “You don’t have to get married if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” he said and reached for my hand.
Awkwardness crackled in the air.
“Do you like the house?” he asked after the awkward moment didn’t pass.
“It’s a bit sterile. But it has potential. It’s the exact sort of house my mother would’ve picked from the outside.”
“Feel free to inject some personality,” he said.
I raised my brows at him.
“I’m serious. After the wedding or now, whatever. A few projects to keep you busy, right? And if you don’t love it, we’ll buy something else.”
I must have made a face of distaste because he looked a little like he’d deflated.
“Listen,” he said, “I know things are different from what you planned but instead of mourning those plans, why not get excited about possibilities?”
“I wanted to get my degree. I…”
“Get it. Do online school.”
Not exactly the same as the college experience.
“Then I wanted to work in social work.”
“You won’t need to work. We have money.”
“We?”
“You and me,” he answered.
We?
“I wanted to,” I said softly.
“Nothing’s really off the table, babe. Once things are settled you can take on charity projects. Start your own charity. Hell, I don’t know, start your own business. As soon as things are settled and safe we can talk about what you want. Nothing is off the table right now, just be open to this, to us. Please?”
Asking please touched something in me. I stared at the flickering candlelight for a few minutes. Then he squeezed my hand and got up from the table, taking me with him. He leaned over and fiddled with his phone, pulled me to him, music started, and he twirled me a little, then started to slow dance, pulling me against his chest and kissing me. I felt shivers climb up my spine. Just a bar in… the song registered in my brain.
At Last by Etta James. I felt my knees almost buckle because… wow. Wow.
I knew, back to when I was a little girl, that if I ever found my dream man, if I ever got married, this song would be it. The song. This song would be the wedding song, the first song I’d have my very first dance with my new husband to. I’d never told anyone that. Nobody.
He tucked my head under his chin and he moved us around so gracefully that it was almost as if I could dance, too. It was as if we’d practiced. Tears stung, unshed, in my eyes and emotion tried to claw its way up my throat. I fought to hold it together.
I’d thought, when I saw him that first time at the ice cream parlor, that he had the looks and the swagger of my absolute dream man, but I thought he was totally unattainable. Older than me, more sophisticated, above my station. Then I met him the day I graduated and thought he was my worst nightmare. Now where was I?