Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to. I’d rather celebrate your big night.”
“It did go well, didn’t it?” His little smile was more than worth whatever retribution Calder wanted to dish out. I’d do his laundry for a month or sit through a dozen card games if it meant getting to see Arthur like this. Arthur’s pink cheeks and glowing eyes made me feel as light and bouncy as he always managed to be, like I too might sing and dance at a moment’s notice.
“It really did. You did good.” Not caring who might still be milling around, I gave him a tight hug from behind. “And I believe I promised you a reward. I’m not going back on that.”
“Good. I know exactly what I want.”
“I can’t wait.” Whatever he wanted, I was going to try my damnedest to give to him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Arthur
Derrick was in the mood to indulge me, and luckily for both of us, I still had a hefty chunk of my sexy wish list left to request, all things we would hopefully both enjoy. I couldn’t wait.
“Everyone wins,” I said more or less to myself as we headed toward our cabin.
“They do.” Plucking the box with my speaker and other supplies out of my arm, he gave me a fancy spin, like an orchestra was lurking in the forest, and this path was our own personal dance floor.
“I thought being goofy was my schtick, not yours.” I kept my voice light to cover how damn charmed I was.
“Hey, you don’t have a monopoly on silliness. Or romance.” He kept up our little impromptu starlight waltz with another spin.
“Is that what this is? Romance?”
I’d still been teasing, but Derrick’s face went surprisingly solemn. “I think so. Yeah.”
“Not sure I can handle you all romantic.” Dropping the joking, I went for honest. Him charming and attentive, being the best fake boyfriend ever, was devastating enough. But adding actual romance to our little fling would be a bad, bad idea.
“What do you think we’ve been doing all week?” Frowning, he stopped the dance, making me instantly regret my comment.
And making me stop and think. What had we done all week? All the sneaky kisses and little gestures. He’d been being romantic for days now, and I’d been purposely obtuse, chalking it all up to the ruse. But I needed to admit if only to myself that I too hadn’t acted in quite some time.
“Good point. But—”
“No buts.” He set a finger over my lips. “Not tonight, okay?”
As usual he was right. This wasn’t the moment to have a deep conversation about the state of our fling. We were supposed to be celebrating. “Tonight was pretty darn magical.”
“You are pretty darn magical all on your own.” Grabbing my hand again, he peered so intently into my eyes that I had to look away, terrified of what he might find written on my soul.
“Maybe you make me that way,” I countered, more truth there than I’d like to admit.
“Nah. You didn’t really need my help.”
“Didn’t mean the show.” I stretched to brush a kiss across his lips, trying to bring back the playful mood.
“Me either.” He kissed me back, soft and sweet, before spinning me again, this time in the direction of our cabin. “Come on, Cinderfella, let’s get you your reward before the clock strikes midnight.”
“Worried I might turn into a pumpkin?” Midnight did loom far closer than I wanted it to. Last night. I’d tried all day not to think about it, but thoughts of how much goodbye was going to suck kept wiggling past my defenses. And judging by the return of Derrick’s serious face, he too wasn’t happy about time slipping away from us.
“Something like that.” Unlocking the door, he ushered me into the cabin. “You’re all mine now.”
“I am.” After he turned the fireplace on, I looped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. Midnight could wait. Right now this was everything, and I kissed him like time had no meaning, like we could be right here when the sun came back up, and I’d be totally happy to be still kissing.
But eventually the need for oxygen did win out, and he pulled away, breathing hard as he darted his gaze toward the bed. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to try fucking.” All week we’d been sort of dancing around the subject, inching closer but not yet crossing that line. I’d sensed him holding back, and I hadn’t pressed the subject because everything else we’d tried had been so damn good. But now time was running out and I was at least going to ask. “And I know you’re going to say—”
“Yes. I’m going to say yes.” His voice was as serious as his eyes, but his mouth was soft as he gave me another fast kiss.
“Damn it, Derrick, I had a whole speech planned.” Laughing, I broke apart enough to push at his shirt. “I know you’re good with what we’ve been doing and that you probably think I should wait, but I want this. I want it to be you.”