Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“But you’ve grown it. I don’t remember it being such a destination when I was younger.”
“From ice cream and peach-themed ceramics to a small café and full gift shop. We even have a fruit and veggie stand from your family’s farm on the sidewalk out front on the fourth weekend of the month all summer and fall.” Reaching over, I rub his leg because I want to be as close and touching him as I can, and I can do it openly without anyone here caring or even noticing. “Everyone loves peaches.”
His hand covers my hip and leans forward to give me a kiss. “Not me. I prefer shortcake.” A thrill zips up my spine like it does every time he’s near. Reaching down, he takes hold of the metal stool and pulls me closer, not giving a damn about the screech it makes against the floor. Lifting one side of his lips, he smirks. “It’s my favorite flavor.”
I lift my hand to run across the back of his neck. I don’t have anything clever or sexy to say in return. I just like how freeing this feels to be here with him. I still give a lame shot. “Luckily, I brought you some.”
“Can’t wait for dessert later.”
It’s tempting to talk him into returning to the apartment, specifically to the bedroom, but we haven’t continued our conversation from earlier, and it’s still weighing on me until we get it settled, one way or the other. I set my crumpled napkin on the pizza plate when a commotion on the other side of the window grabs our attention. I glance at Baylor, who rubs my lower back in reassurance. “Nothing to worry about.” He’s right regarding the argument, and they move along.
But my heart is still burdened. “Can we talk?”
“Always, Shortcake.”
I honestly didn’t know what he thought about me asking him to marry him earlier, so I breathe a sigh of relief hearing him so open to the conversation. “The leasing agent said the new owners will be offering bonuses to new tenants.” I swivel on the barstool to face the window again, wanting to drop my head in my hands in frustration as my blood begins to boil. I turn my gaze outside and start traveling the height of the building across the street instead of seeing him study my expression as I work through the part that stings most. “Such an insult to me and Cathy down at the clothing outlet.”
The tip of his finger presses under my chin, angling me to face him. When I do, the warmth of his palm caresses my cheek. It’s not a showy gesture, but it’s intimate, comforting, his eyes engaging as I stare into them. The bond that started back home in Texas feels stronger than ever. Even if he turns me down, I feel less alone in this battle.
“Forget him,” he says. There’s a ribbon of anger in his tone that I’m not used to but I appreciate. “He’ll get what’s coming. Focus on the shop. Peaches Sundries & More is the anchor of our downtown area. It’s what has kept Peachtree Pass alive all these years. Nothing is going to happen to it. I’ll make sure of it.” I’m not sure how he can help other than the way already presented, but hearing his strength when I feel weak gives me hope, not only for the business but for us. He’s standing with me, beside me, and giving me the support I need. No questions asked.
I’m loved. Even though the words haven’t crossed his lips, I can see it in his eyes when he looks into mine. It makes me feel bad for peddling marriage like it’s one of those conning street games. It’s a big deal and a bigger commitment. It’s supposed to be between soulmates, between people who love each other endlessly. Our relationship is just starting, and though I feel closer to him than anyone else, are we ready to take on that responsibility?
It’s a business arrangement. That’s it. If I forget the purpose or fail to focus, I will lose everything. My shoulders soften when I look at him, though. My feelings for him are deeper than I’m used to, new in unfamiliar ways, but what I had always thought love would feel like. So would it really be a purely professional arrangement if we got married? My heart knows the truth.
He says, “Let’s get out of here. I want to take you to this park about ten minutes from here.”
We toss our trash and hit the pavement. I’m still blown away by the level of noise—from people in every direction to the cars jamming together on the streets. My head feels like the stool, swiveling on my neck to take in everything I can. And though it’s already seven, we’re no closer to sunset despite the street being shaded by the skyscrapers. I always love the longer summer days.