Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I’ll be here,” I reply, and he smiles, lifting his fingers to touch the side of my face before carrying his mom’s suitcase away. I take a seat on the couch and pick up my phone to call Leah and tell her what happened today, and to make sure we’re still set for tonight. But I pause when I see a text waiting for me on the screen from my dad.
Thank you for meeting with me today. I love you, honey.
I stare at the message, feeling a million different things, the biggest of them all being hope. With a few quick swipes, I text him back with a simple I love you too, and I tell him I hope we can meet for coffee this week. After I press send, I dial Leah, whom I just spoke to a few days ago, but with everything that’s happened and everything I have to tell her, you’d think we haven’t spoken in a year. When I get off the phone after talking with her, I find Gaston in the kitchen.
“Is your mom okay?”
“Yep, settled in and going to take a nap.” His eyes come to me. “Do turkey sandwiches for lunch sound okay?”
“Sure, do you want me to help?”
“I got it. Just grab chips and drinks, baby,” he says, then asks, “Was that Leah on the phone?”
“Yeah, I wanted to call to make sure she and Tyler are still planning to meet us at the restaurant, and to tell her about meeting up with my dad this morning.”
“What’d she say about that?”
“She’s glad I finally talked to him,” I reply, grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry and two Cokes from the fridge while he smears mayo on four pieces of dark bread, then piles them high with turkey and swiss cheese. I go to the fridge and grab a jar of sweet dill pickles and hand it to him, making him smile. “Also, my dad sent me a text.” His gaze comes to me. “Hopefully, that means today actually did get through to him.”
“Only time will tell, sweetheart.” He cuts both sandwiches in half, then places each on a plate. “Let’s eat in the bedroom.”
“Is that code for something else?” I wink, grabbing the chips and drinks and listening to him as he laughs.
“I wish. Unfortunately, I only have time to eat lunch with you,” he says as I get onto his bed. He hands me a plate before sitting next to me. “I have to go to Twilight to take care of a few last-minute things.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and groan in approval. Once I’ve chewed and swallowed, I ask, “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, everything is covered.” He leans over to give me a kiss, then reaches for his Coke. He takes a sip, and I notice he’s already half-finished with his sandwich, making my heart sink, because that means he will be leaving me soon.
“I really hate that you have to leave.”
At my statement, his eyes come to me, and whatever he sees in my expression makes his face soften. “Sorry, baby.” He drops his plate to his side table, then removes mine from my lap and places his face close to mine. “I can’t wait until this shit is over.”
“The holidays?” I ask, and he shakes his head, searching my gaze.
“No, the leaving you in bed all the time.”
“Me too,” I agree; then his mouth covers mine, and a simple kiss turns into a make-out session and a really quick quickie before he leaves me in bed, our half-eaten sandwiches forgotten as he goes to get ready for work.
When he comes out dressed, I’m lying on my stomach dozing, and he kisses my bare shoulder, making me smile. “Thanks for the sandwich and the orgasm,” I say.
He chuckles, kissing my temple, and then orders, “Sleep, and I’ll be back to wake you with plenty of time for you to get ready for dinner.”
“Okay,” I agree, already half-asleep, with my eyes drooping closed.
“Love you,” I hear, and then I listen to the rattle of plates, the door closing, and LeFou jumping up onto the bed as he curls against my side. I pass out two seconds later, and I do it with a smile on my face.
Standing on a small platform above the crowded club, I smile when I hear Leah giggle. “She’s good,” she says, referring to Gaston’s mom, who is currently flirting with one of the young, very attractive male waiters, Allen, who’s been taking care of us since we got here.
“She really is.” I watch the waiter lean in to whisper something in her ear, and I wonder how Gaston would feel if he were to see what was happening right now between his mom and one of his employees.