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)
“I love you, too.” He kissed her forehead.
“No, that’s not what I mean.” She stepped out of his arms. “I love you so much that my heart feels like it beats within your body. I watched what losing Edward did to Constance, and I know that I’m not strong enough to lose you. I won’t survive it.”
“Scarlett,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close because there was nothing else he could do. They both knew that tomorrow it could be him. With the prevalence of the bombing raids, it could be her. Every goodbye kiss they shared held the bittersweet taste of desperation because they knew it could be their last.
And if it were her… He sucked in a steadying breath to quiet the unwelcome, impossible thoughts. There was nothing for him without Scarlett. She was the reason he ran a little faster when they scrambled to intercept a bombing raid. She was the reason he pushed the newer pilots harder. She was the reason he’d stay no matter how many letters his parents sent, telling him they were proud of him in the same line that they begged for him to come home. He didn’t need to swear loyalty to the king—he’d sworn it to Scarlett, and she was his to protect.
“Come on.” He took her hand and led her inside, but instead of carrying her to their bedroom and making love to her as he’d planned for every minute of his drive, he took her to the living room, where he put Billie Holiday on the record player. “Dance with me, Scarlett.”
Her lips lifted, but it was too sad to be called a smile. She slid into his arms and laid her head against his chest as they swayed in small circles, steering clear of the coffee table.
This right here was where he lived. Everything else he did was to get him back safely for more of this—more of her. Living apart was a special kind of torture; knowing she was only an hour away, but he couldn’t get to her, caused too many sleepless nights. He missed the feel of her skin against his in the morning, missed the scent of her hair when she’d fall asleep on his chest. He missed talking about their days, planning their future, kissing their way through yet another burned dinner. He missed everything about her.
“I have news for you,” he said softly, brushing his lips over her temple.
“Hmm?” She lifted her head, apprehension filling her eyes.
“We’re being reposted.” He tried to keep a straight face, but his lips didn’t obey.
“Already?” Her brow puckered and her lips flattened. “I don’t—”
“Ask me where.” Now he was grinning—so much for keeping it a surprise.
“Where?”
He lifted his brows.
“Jameson,” she chastised. “Don’t tease me. Whe—” She inhaled sharply, then narrowed her eyes. “You tell me right this very minute, because if you get my hopes up just to squash them like a bug, you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”
“No, I won’t,” he said with a smile. “You like me too much for that.”
“Not at this moment I don’t.”
“Fine, then you like what I do to your body too much for that,” he teased, his gaze heating.
She arched a brow.
“Here,” he finally said as the song wrapped up. “We’re being reposted here. In a couple weeks we’ll be in the same bed every night.” He raised his hand to her cheek. “We’ll be back to burning breakfasts and racing each other for the shower.”
A grin spread across her beautiful face, and his chest tightened. Just like that, she turned an absolute shit day into something truly exceptional.
“I was asked to train to be a teller,” she admitted quietly, as if someone could hear them. Joy flashed across her eyes. “It could mean I’d make Section Leader before the year is out.”
“I’m proud of you.” Now he was the one grinning.
“And I’m proud of you. Aren’t we the pair?” She rose and brushed her mouth over his. “Now what were you saying about what you could do to my body?”
He had her upstairs before the next song started.
…
Scarlett stumbled into the kitchen the next morning to find Jameson at the stove, frying up breakfast. Her stomach flipped at the smell, then somersaulted.
“You okay?” Constance asked from the corner, where she was opening a jar of jam.
Right, they were supposed to talk about training this morning. She’d forgotten, which added another reason to be annoyed at herself.
“Fine,” Scarlett lied, trying to swallow the nausea. “I didn’t see you there. I’m so sorry I completely abandoned you last night.”
Constance smiled, glancing between Scarlett and Jameson. “No need to explain. Just happy it all worked out.” The light flickered from her eyes as she brought the jam to the table.
“What can I do to help?” Scarlett asked, putting her hand between Jameson’s shoulder blades.