Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 61(@200wpm)___ 49(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 61(@200wpm)___ 49(@250wpm)___ 41(@300wpm)
We work on the attic, but our work dynamic has completely changed. It's been less than a week since we first kissed, but my desire for her has only grown stronger. Every time we touch, it sends sparks running up and down my skin, making me crazy with want.
It doesn't help that she flirts mercilessly with me whenever she thinks I'm off guard. She'll bend over in front of me to pick something up or brush against me "accidentally" while walking by. One time, she even took a photo of me while I was working. She just laughed when confronted and said it would make good blackmail material, but I know damn well she plans to use it for other purposes.
I have no idea what I'm going to do. My entire adult life I've fought to avoid Lena because of how much I cared for her already. And now? Now that I've seen the way she looks at me, heard how she moans my name when we're together, felt how perfectly her body fits against mine? How am I supposed to keep my distance now?
How long can I pretend I don't want to be with her officially? How long until I have to tell Jake I've been fucking his sister senseless every night, and now I plan on being with her for the rest of my life?
Well, I can probably leave the 'fucking her senseless' part out, even if it's true.
Now that I've been staying over, Mr. Grayson has left Lena alone. I saw him outside once, and before he could run inside and hide from me, I marched up to his front door and told him that if he came around again, I'd break his legs.
And I meant it, too.
He seems to get the message, at least for now. It might be temporary, but if it happens again, he'll learn I am a man of my word.
Everything comes to a head when it's finally time for Lena to throw a housewarming party and show off the attic we finished. Not to sound too cocky, but it's incredible. We've transformed it into a full photography studio, complete with natural lighting, plenty of space, and everything else she could possibly want. It's decorated in creams and sage green, warm and inviting, just like Lena herself.
I corner my girl in the kitchen while the party—including her parents and brother—is in full swing in the new studio. I kiss her soundly, and when she pulls back, smiling but surprised, she asks, "What is that for?"
"I need to ask you something. Do you want to give this a real shot? With a title and everything? Because I'm prepared to tell Jake tonight. I want this that badly, Lena."
She grins and kisses me again. "I'd love that. Let's go tell them before we start any rumors."
We head into the studio, where everyone is mingling and chatting away. Before I can even get a word in edgewise, Jake pulls me aside and says, "How long have you two been screwing around?"
Lena and I glance at each other, then back at him. Her expression is slightly worried. "You're not mad?"
He shakes his head and laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. "I've seen this coming since we were teenagers." He pulls his sister in for a hug, whispering something I can't hear, and then hugs me, too.
Everything happens so fast after that. We break the news to everyone else, who all seem unsurprised by the development.
Her mother hugs us both and says, "About time."
She's absolutely right. It's about damn time.
EPILOGUE
LENA
Five Years Later
I bought a giant house on a whim half a decade ago, but when I read the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, I'm infinitely glad I picked such a big place back then.
It's my second pregnancy, and I know Owen is going to be thrilled. He'll probably be a bit less thrilled when we have to renovate another room into a nursery, but what's the point of marrying a carpenter if I don't get the perks along with it?
Our daughter, Emily, left for kindergarten hours ago, and it's a rare day when Owen is able to go to work a little late. I find him at the kitchen island, drinking strong black coffee that would give me heart palpitations and sketching something in a thick notebook.
The positive test is in my jeans pocket, burning like a secret, dying to be told.
"Slow morning?" I ask, leaning in to kiss his cheek. His eyes are still tired, but he manages a small smile for me.
"Yep, trying to figure out some ideas for a project." He shows me the blueprint sketches and tells me about how he wants to expand his contracting business to include renovating entire houses. Not just single floors. Not just rooms. Entire homes.
I listen to Owen talk excitedly about this dream, feeling pride swell in my chest. Even though I'm a professional photographer with awards and recognition under my belt, there's nothing quite like seeing your husband happy at work.