Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Her hug felt familiar like I’d been hugging her my entire life. When she started to pull away, I tugged her closer. I just needed a few more seconds of holding her in my arms. She smelled like roses. Her hair, her neck. I wanted to breathe her in as long as possible.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I whispered as my chin rested on top of her head. “But thank you.”
“Birthdays are important. It’s important to celebrate each one. Now, come on, sit. I’ve made you quite the twenty-thousand-dollar spread, if I do say so myself.”
I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and took a seat on the blanket.
She sat beside me and clapped her hands together. “Actually, let’s do gifts first.”
“You didn’t have to get me gifts.”
“Birthdays mean gifts, Alex.” She picked up the first box and held it out toward me. “Happy birthday,” she repeated.
I smirked. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I think you like it a little.”
A little.
Maybe.
I began to unwrap the gift and smiled when I saw what was inside. “Air Force Ones, huh?”
“I figured I should replace the ones from our first meeting. I found out your size when I was dog-sitting for you.”
“Sneaky, Goldie.”
“I’m a great gift giver, which brings me to my next gift.” She held out a smaller box to me.
I took it. I found a gold chain necklace with a tiny capsule holding something within it as I opened it.
I arched an eyebrow. “What is this?”
“Salt,” she replied. “To remind you of your great-aunt Teresa. You said she was the salt in your life, so I figured you should have a reminder of said salt around your neck.”
I remained quiet. My mind went into shutdown mode as I stared at the capsule in my hands.
Yara placed a hand on my forearm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. If you hate it, you don’t have to—”
“Thank you,” I choked out, biting back the tears that wanted to flood my stare. “This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.”
“I thought it might be nice.”
“It’s more than nice. It’s everything. Thank you, Yara.”
“Always.”
I wanted to kiss her again.
And again.
And again.
Our moment was interrupted as a photographer walked over and held up his camera. “Hey, sorry! I was hoping I could get a photo of the happy couple for the newspaper article on the festival.”
“Of course,” Yara said.
Without thought, I pulled her toward me, into my lap, and wrapped my arms around her. She seemed a bit surprised by my actions, but I whispered in her ear, “For the fake relationship.”
“Oh.” She nodded slowly, getting comfortable within my lap.
I forgot to tell her the truthful part, though. The part where I secretly just wanted to hold her in my arms. That I craved her touch. That I wanted her to stay against me until the sun set and rose again.
We took the photograph, and I kissed her cheek as the camera flashed.
The cameraman smiled. “It’s good to see such a happy couple. You two look great together. Thanks!”
He hurried away, and Yara slightly twisted her body to face me. “Did you hear that? We look great together.”
I brushed my nose against hers and whispered, “It’s all you.”
She scrunched up her nose and smiled, her lips so close to mine. “It’s all you,” she replied.
Us.
Even if it were merely make-believe, it was all us.
Her mouth brushed against mine for a moment, but she suddenly shook her head and crawled out of my lap. “Sorry. Make-believe.” She giggled nervously. “I almost forgot.”
Oh, how I wished she had.
She went to her picnic basket and unpacked the goodies she’d made. “It’s a charcuterie board, Yara style.”
I laughed as I looked down at the spread. Ritz crackers and cream cheese. That was it. That was all.
Well worth twenty thousand dollars.
It also came with her goofy smile packed with joy.
For that, I would’ve paid double.
We spent the remainder of the evening under the stars. She told me stories about her life, and I shared a few of my own.
“My mom started the tradition of the water dishes for the small businesses,” she explained as she lay on her back with her hands behind her head, looking at the stars. “She made them down at Pat’s Pottery. She passed away when I was eight, but I kept making them when new businesses came into town.”
I sat up. “The one I broke was based on a tradition your mother started?”
She nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I said it’s not just a water dish.”
I shifted and turned my body toward her. “Yara, I—”
“Don’t apologize,” she urged. “You already did.”
“That was before I knew the history of it. That was important, and I ruined it. I truly am sorry.”
“Alex, I’m going to say this one last time, just so you truly believe me deep in your gut. I forgive you. For all the mishaps we’ve had. We’re good.” She stood to her feet. “I almost forgot about dessert. Stay here. I saw Hadley’s peach pies were out at the festival, and I think you need to taste that to experience the best pie of your life. I’ll be right back.”