Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Zane looks at me and shakes his head. “I’m very content right here.”
“Me too.” Besides, there will be ample time to hear them.
We sip our drinks in silence, watching the snow fall, the people outside, and listening to the music coming from my speaker.
“You know, when they renovated, they should’ve put the kitchen in the middle so your couch could be here.”
“I know. I would’ve definitely designed this differently had it been me. But I still love it.”
“Do you ever see yourself leaving?”
I give him a half shrug. “I’d love to own one of the houses on Monument Drive. I’ve always loved the historic features of a colonial style home. But I also think my parents are going to sell in the spring and I’m not sure I’m willing to give up the farm.”
“They’re selling?”
I nod. “My dad is ready to retire, and mom wants to travel.”
Zane looks out the window again and sighs. “I wish my dad would retire. Each time I walk in there, I look at how much it would cost to renovate the store.”
“It’s on the historic registry, Zane.”
“It is?”
“I petitioned to have it put there so the town couldn’t raise the taxes. But it means it also limits what structural modifications can be done.”
“You did that to help my dad, didn’t you?”
“Yes. He would’ve lost it otherwise.”
Zane sighs and shakes his head. “I failed him.”
I rest my hand on his back, hopefully offering him a bit of comfort.
“What matters is you’re here now and you’re not going anywhere.”
He turns sharply and for the briefest of moments I think he’s going to tell me he’s going back to New York, but his features soften and his eyes water. “Leaving was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m not doing it again.”
“I know.” I offer him a smile and then finish my cocoa. I take my mug to the sink, add water, and plan to let it soak overnight. Zane does the same. I don’t bother to move, letting our arms touch while we both stand there.
“I’m tired,” I tell him.
“Okay, I’ll head home.”
“Maybe you’d like to stay.” I glance at him after saying those words.
“Are you sure?”
“I am . . .” I hesitate. “But I’m nowhere near ready to uh . . .”
“Eve, neither am I. Believe me, I’m content with just kissing you.” He pushes my hair over my shoulder. “Holding you.” Zane cups my cheek. I lean into his hold, welcoming his strong hand. “We can snuggle on the couch. It’s definitely big enough for both of us. Watch a movie. ‘Tis the season for twenty-fours of Hallmark, after all.”
The fact he wants to watch cheesy holiday movies makes me giggle. “My bed is far more comfortable and there’s a TV in my room.”
“There is? I didn’t notice in my drunken stupor the last time I was here.”
“I can’t imagine how you missed it. Come on, let’s go watch movies in bed.”
“What about the tree?” he asks after I take his hand.
“It’s on a timer.”
“Excellent.”
Even though Zane’s been in my place twice before, I’ve purposely tried to keep him away from my room, even though he found his way in here in his self-confessed drunken stupor. And by his own confession, he doesn’t remember my room that night.
The night when everything started to change.
No, I suppose the change started when he showed up at the farm, hoping I would be there, but thinking I wouldn’t. What a twisted trick his mind played on him. I leave him in my room, behind the makeshift walls I put up for privacy, and head to the bathroom to change into a pair of light blue flannel pants with snowmen on them, and matching shirt. I take care of my needs, wash my face and brush my teeth, and then pull an extra toothbrush from my cabinet for Zane. As luck would have it, it’s his favorite color—red.
He's standing at the end of my bed, without his shirt on and his pants undone while he channel surfs. The fact that he feels so at home here screams volumes to me. Somewhere out there in the universe, a seed was planted at Thanksgiving that he needed to come home. First to his dad, and then to me. Maybe he also knew Caryn and small-time life wouldn’t agree and wanted to test her to see if they truly were compatible. It’s not my place to ask him about his ex-fiancée—and I don’t want to—but the fact is, he’s not with her now and that’s what counts.
“There’s a toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom for you.”
He turns and a wide grin forms. “You’re adorable.”
Adorable is for babies and toddlers. I want him to see me as desirable . . . eventually.
“Do you mind if I sleep in my boxers? I don’t imagine you have any of my other clothes?”