The Lovely Return Read Online Carian Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Forbidden, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
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“I do, too. But I don’t want to dwell on it. I just want to put it behind me and focus on now and the future.”

“Good.” He nods slowly. “I think that’s exactly what you should do.”

I can still sense a carefulness in him that tells me he’s afraid of doing or saying something to accidentally set me off. Clearly, my episodes have left him with a form of PTSD. I’m going to have to show him that he doesn’t have to tiptoe around me.

“I bought a hamster,” I say, resting my head back against the couch.

I love the little chuckle sound he makes. “I saw that.”

“We were both stuck in a bad place. And when I gave her everything she deserved, she flourished. She inspired me.”

My very favorite smile of his makes an appearance and I have to resist launching across the couch and kissing him. “I kinda love that story,” he says. “They say inspiration can come from anywhere.”

I believe that very much. “I missed being inspired. I don’t ever want to take it for granted again.”

“Come here,” he says quietly, tugging on my hand.

Heart racing, I let him pull me into his arms, where he turns me so my back is pressed against his broad chest.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as he pulls the blanket over us. “Lily is right downstairs.”

“Shhh….” He wraps his arms around me from behind and leans his head against mine. Nuzzling his face into my hair, his lips brush across my ear. “I’m going to hug you for every time you needed one and I wasn’t there to give you one.”

A tiny, whispery gasp of surprise escapes my lips. My eyes fall closed and I hug his crossed arms tightly over my chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine echoes within me, each pulse thrumming like a drum, punctuating a sense of pure contentment, security, and undeniable belonging.

“Alex…” I say softly. “Why are you so amazing?”

His voice is rough, all masculine emotion. “I’m not. I just want you to know how much I care about you. I can’t stand the thought of you being sick, scared, or in pain. I want to make it all just fucking disappear.”

“You do.”

I let myself relax in his arms, hoping with all hope that this is a new beginning for us. I slowly run my fingertips down his arm to clasp his hand, stopping when I feel his wedding band. I realize I should probably feel some tiny degree of jealousy that he’s wearing it, but I don’t.

Touching the ring, I tease, “Are you still trying to keep women away?”

His lips press against my temple. “All but one.”

My heart jumps with happiness. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved that you still wear your ring.” I gently slip the ring off his finger. The metal is scratched, most likely from years of working with his hands.

“It’s heavier than it looks,” I observe.

“Because it’s platinum. It’s a heavier metal than gold or silver.”

I turn it in my fingers. “Is there writing inside?”

“Yeah. An inscription.”

“That’s so sweet.”

He lets out a short laugh. “Well, they’re not our words.”

“What do you mean?”

“Years ago, I couldn’t afford new rings, and Bri kept saying she wanted rings that had a history. She thought it brought good luck. So I got our rings at an estate sale. The couple passed when they were in their nineties.”

“Wow. I love that.”

I bring the ring closer to my face, squinting to read the tiny engraved words. “To you, I will always return. Is that what it says?”

“Yeah. And Bri’s said, For you, my heart beats.”

My fingers tingle. “That’s so romantic. I wonder how many years the original couple was married?”

“A long time. Unfortunately, their love story didn’t bring us the luck Bri was hoping for.”

As I slide the ring back onto his finger, a wave of déjà vu rolls over me. The wedding photos on the wall suddenly seem to be pulsing with energy. Swallowing hard, I ignore the sensations and say, “Maybe that’s not true. I don’t think love can be measured or defined by time spent together. I think what really matters is how deeply, how selflessly you love someone.”

“I hope you’re right.” He touches my chin and turns me to face him. “But this time, I want it all.” His lips touch mine, softly. Briefly. Leaving me wanting more. “I want the years together. I want all the anniversaries. I want that deep, wordless, can’t ever get enough of you, love each other at our best and our worst kind of love. I don’t know how, or even when I fell in love with you… but you captured my heart and I can’t see my future with anyone but you. That last night you said you were waiting for me. I’ve been waiting a long time for you, too, Penny Rose.”


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