Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Harriet
My heart thumps, but it aches too. “I want to know what his response was. I want to know what makes his day better, and if it’s her,” I say, both sad and happy as I meet Corbin’s eyes and process this next chapter in a love story from the last century.
But what I see surprises me. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. A smile that says he has a secret. He rolls his lips, lifts the cup of champagne, and swallows a sip.
Then he blows out a very satisfied breath.
Okay, I’ll bite. I point at his lovely mouth. “What on earth is that smile for?”
He shrugs confidently. “I know what he said.”
My eyes pop out. “Did you peek?”
“Nope.”
“Then how do you know?” I’m genuinely confused.
He tips his forehead to the back of the letter, the side he’s staring at. “He wrote a reply.”
“What?” I whip the paper around, and I can see on the bottom that it’s Russ’s handwriting.
My body floods with sunlight. “Read it.”
The reply is short, but full of a kind of longing that Corbin seems to capture perfectly as he reads.
I know I’m not supposed to say these things. I know it’s risky. But I can’t seem to stop. Seeing you is my favorite time of the day. Seeing you is what makes my day better. Spending time with you is what I enjoy most. And I shouldn’t write that, but I can’t let another day go by without letting you know.
I shudder out a heavy breath, full of admiration for these young lovers. “He was really vulnerable with her.”
“And taken. He was very, very taken with her.”
That’s a fair assessment. “He was.”
Corbin turns to the bakery, staring at the display case, like it’s too much for him to look at me.
But that just means I can enjoy a long glance at him.
After we clean up—both from the champagne and from work—the day catches up with me. A yawn takes over as I head to the door, ready to drive back to San Francisco. Before I set a hand on the knob to open it and fall into my car, Corbin says, “Why don’t you sleep here?”
That’s not a bad idea. The thought of driving another forty minutes is too daunting, since it’s way past nine.
“I have no jammies. I don’t want to sleep in clothes. Or undies.”
“I’ll bring you something.”
“Something of yours?”
“Considering I don’t keep a spare set of women’s jammies at home, yes. The clothes will be mine.”
“Get them now,” I say.
He smacks me on the ass. “Get upstairs. Get in bed. I’ll be back with a comfy outfit.”
“Yes, sir.”
He leaves, and I head upstairs, yawning, then I strip down to my bra and undies, wash my face in the bathroom, and tumble onto the naked mattress.
Oh fuck.
No sheets. This was dumb. Why didn’t I think of this bedding issue? I should go. Head to the city or see if I can crash at Theo’s or maybe Clementine’s. I should at the very least put my clothes back on, in the spirit of our “no more sex” pact.
But the day drifts behind my eyelids, a packed store, a pickleball challenge, a possessive man, the falling apart, and the hoping for more. And then the night floats before me as the day dissolves into just sensations and feelings.
The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs stirs me awake. I push up in bed, on the mattress, yawning, bleary-eyed.
Corbin’s here with affection in his eyes. Fondness, even, as he stares down like he’s been looking at me for a little while. “Hey, let me put the bed together for you.”
I rub my eyes. “You brought sheets?”
“Of course I did.” He offers me a hand and tugs my tired body off the mattress. My limbs feel heavy. My heart is both full and achy.
“I’ll help you,” I say.
He points to another bed in this bunk area and says, “Sit.”
Before I go over there, he hands me a T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that are way too big for me. I bring them to my nose anyway, both of them, inhaling the clean, fresh laundry scent.
He shakes a sheet out over the mattress as I duck into the bathroom to change. He’s seen me naked and fucked me senseless, but if we’re sticking to the partnership plan, I don’t want to make things harder for either one of us. When I return, swimming in his clothes, he’s spreading a blanket on the bed, and my chest squeezes from the thoughtfulness. It’s white with a sage green-striped pattern and flowers around the edges.
“Did you pick that out?”
“It’s Charlotte’s. She said it was pretty. It was just an extra blanket from the house, but it’s fairly big.”
“And she has good taste.”
“She does.” He fluffs the pillow and puts that down, then pats the bed.