Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
They took a full two minutes to recover after they collapsed on the bed, their shallow breaths eventually slowing as they turned toward each other, Eve cuddling up into Madden’s good side, tucking her face into his salty neck. “You’re the only one who gets me. And you’re the only one who gets me.” She kissed his jaw. “Just making sure you knew.”
“I love you, Eve,” he said, the words escaping in a rush of gratitude. Of truth. A truth he’d known for so long, he couldn’t remember a time before she’d defined love for him. “Go to sleep now, knowing that. Knowing it’ll never change. It’s been you the whole time and it’ll be you for all the time to come.”
Madden didn’t need to hear Eve say the words back, because he already knew.
She wouldn’t have been there, wouldn’t have given him so much trust otherwise.
But he fell asleep dreaming of the day she’d let down her final wall and say them.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eve had set her alarm to go off early. She had a long drive back to Cumberland; the twins were still with the Pages and she didn’t want to impose on them any longer than necessary. As much as she wanted—maybe even needed—to remain in this blissful purgatory known as Madden’s apartment, she had responsibilities to attend to. The sun had barely backlit the skyscrapers in the immediate distance, so she assumed she wouldn’t be alone in bed. And yet, the pillow beside hers was empty.
She stilled in the act of pulling aside the comforter and sheets to climb out of bed, Madden’s voice reaching her from outside the bedroom. In the kitchen, maybe?
Who was he talking to?
With a broad yawn, she contemplated giving in to the urge to lie back down and wait for him to return, even if she just got a good morning kiss for her efforts. It would be worth the wait. Every single thing about him had been worth the wait. Recalling the three words he said to her in the middle of the night, her heart felt like one of those jewelry boxes with the spinning ballerina, just singing and pirouetting in her chest. She was tender between her legs and covered in whisker chafes . . . and she must be a greedy lover, because she could only crave more of him inside her. Pressing and stretching and stroking.
Eve rolled over and inhaled his scent off the sheets, unable to suppress the smile that had started to feel natural sometime yesterday. This . . . was happiness. Miles and miles from Cumberland and the hundred-pound albatross around her neck that came with her position in the town. Maybe . . .
Maybe she should start thinking about moving one day.
Not today, of course. Or anytime soon. Just . . . someday.
Those tiny sprinkles of possibility caused relief to explode in her bloodstream, and she turned over on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, seeing images painted there. Ones she shouldn’t allow herself to imagine. Not when they weren’t possible.
Still, she thought of that house with the purple Christmas lights and her throat seized up with hope. Dangerous hope. When she closed her eyes to picture heaven now, it wasn’t the posh interior of a burlesque club, it was them. Lying in a backyard beneath the stars, listening to the crickets chirp. For years, she’d driven herself to improve the club, make every detail perfect, but without having to set foot inside the Gilded Garden last night, she’d been lighter. Freer.
What did that mean?
She’d always dreamed of being accepted by her hometown.
Wouldn’t leaving mean giving up on that dream?
Madden’s voice rose slightly, and Eve frowned, turning her head to stare at the bedroom door. Was it her imagination or did he sound agitated?
Slowly, she stood and pulled on Madden’s shirt, which had lain in a heap on the floor overnight, leaving it wrinkled but still decidedly perfect, because it belonged to him. Then she walked barefoot to the bedroom door and turned the knob, pulling it open without a sound and listening.
“I don’t understand why this is anyone’s business,” Madden said. “This is my personal life we’re talking about.”
Several seconds of silence followed, though Eve could hear her pulse pick up its pace in her ears. Personal life. Who was he speaking to?
“Jesus Christ, why is everyone making such a big deal out of one single play? I performed the job I was hired to do. End of story. There is no story beyond that.” A pause. “I don’t care if the press disagrees. I wasn’t signed by the Yankees to be a media clown. I’m a baseball player. That’s all anyone should be concerned about. Not her.”
Eve recoiled from the door, a sandstorm whipping up inside her rib cage.
Her.
As in . . . her?