Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
He gripped her hips with strong hands, then slowed the kiss until it was nothing more than soft brushes of his lips against hers.
“Jameson,” she whispered as he rested his forehead on hers.
“When I saw those explosions coming for us, I didn’t know how to protect you.” His grip tightened.
“You can’t,” she said softly. “There’s nothing either of us can do to keep the other alive.” Her fingers caressed the nape of his neck.
“I know, and it’s killing me.”
Her stomach tightened. “I’m not marrying him. I need you to know that. I spent all night watching the waves of the raids, and the thought of losing you—of you up there, thinking God knows what…” She shook her head. “I’m not marrying him.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, light and soft. “I should have let you explain. The shock just about ripped me apart.”
“There will be more,” she warned him. “If my parents went this far, they’ll go further. There will be more rumors, more articles, more pressure. As long as you know the truth of it, I can handle them.”
He nodded and swallowed, a pained look crossing his face before he brought his gaze back to hers. The intensity she found there stole her breath. “I’m in love with you, Scarlett Wright. I’ve done everything I can to fight it, to take it slower, to give you what time and space you need. But this war isn’t going to give us that time, and after last night, I’m not hiding it anymore. I’m in love with you.”
A sweet ache began to throb in her chest. “I’m in love with you, too.” What was the point of avoiding it, of not giving in, when neither of them knew if they’d be alive tomorrow?
The smile that lit his face was echoed on hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to feel that happiness radiate, to sink into every fiber of her being. But now that they’d admitted it, what were they going to do with it?
“There’s talk of the Americans getting their own squadron,” she whispered. Another squadron meant a transfer.
“I’ve heard.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“What are we going to do?” Her voice broke on the last word.
“We’re going to face it all head-on. Your parents, the war, the whole Royal Air Force,” he said with a flash of a smile. “We’ll do it together. You are mine, Scarlett Wright, and I am yours, and from this second on, we don’t keep secrets.”
She nodded, then kissed him sweetly. “Okay. Now take me home before we do something that gets us both court-martialed.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She knew that what was coming for them might very well crush this new, fierce feeling that filled her chest, but for this moment, they were safe, they were together, and they were in love.
Chapter Nine
Georgia
Dearest Jameson,
Here we are again, writing letters. I would give anything to reach through this paper, to stretch across the long miles between us just to touch you, to feel your heartbeat. How many more times can this war separate us before we’re simply allowed to be happy? I know we’re lucky, that we’ve been stationed together longer than most, but I am greedy when it comes to you, and there is no replacement for feeling your arms around me. But don’t worry, my arms only hold the other Mr. Stanton, and he makes every day we’re apart just a little brighter…
I glared down at my phone for what felt like the billionth time that week. Just when I thought Noah might understand, that he might actually grasp the simple fact that I wasn’t backing down, he’d call again and suggest some cheesy conclusion to Gran’s story, and each was worse than the last.
Like right now.
“I’m sorry…did you just say he pops out of a Christmas present?” I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the screen, making sure that was actually Noah on the other end. Yep, that was his number, his low—and I could admit, begrudgingly—sexy voice, spinning an absolutely ludicrous tale.
“Exactly. Just picture it—”
“You have lost your mind, and you might just be driving me to lose mine in the proce—” That was it. My eyes narrowed. “That isn’t your real ending, is it? None of these are.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. That is a joyful celebration of love and hope.” He was good. He even sounded offended.
“Uh-huh. You’re giving me blatantly bad, corny endings to wear me down so I won’t dismiss your actual idea, aren’t you?” I finished pouring my sweet tea and headed for Gran’s office—my office.
“Actually, I had a more…poignant idea, too.” There was a sound like a soft crash, like he’d thrown himself onto his couch—or bed.
Not that I was thinking about his bed, because I wasn’t.