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)
“Just in case of what?”
“We get stranded and have to survive in the woods for days before being rescued.”
Chuckling, he says, “I don’t think it’s possible to get lost or stranded in the woods between Manhattan and the Hamptons.”
“We were raised in Texas. We come prepared. Have you been gone so long that you forgot your roots, Baylor?”
The silence draws my gaze to him as a myriad of emotions plays through his eyes as he glares ahead. Now I feel bad. He must feel me staring because he looks over and asks, “What?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“My feelings are fine.” His words are curt, and though it’s invisible, I see that mask I thought he left far behind our relationship slip back on.
“Sounds like it,” I snark even when I know better. I reach over and rub his leg. “I really didn’t mean anything by it. It just came out.”
“It came out because you believe that. You believe that I’m more New York now than Peachtree Pass.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? You left and never came back. I would think you would be proud of the direction of your life. Maybe I’m wrong for jumping to conclusions.” Just as I pull my hand away, he captures it and brings it back to his lap.
“You’re not wrong. It’s no secret that Tagger and I had big plans, and those plans panned out.” He glances at me. “That doesn’t mean that our hometown didn’t shape who I am as a man or isn’t still part of me.”
Leaning my head back and angling my body, I face him. “You glide seamlessly between the two worlds, but eventually, you’ll have to choose one.”
“Why?”
“I’m there, Baylor.” I don’t know why I say it. The thing that I tried so hard to repress, to never pressure him into deciding. Lifting my head, I stare down at the rings on my finger. I foolishly forgot that this isn’t real. We aren’t. We said one night, and I’m dragging it into the next day. I’m only supposed to play the part in the Hamptons. Pretending to be in love with him when I really am. I face forward again, and add, “Forget I said that.”
“Lauralee, don’t do that. Don’t close down on me.”
And as timing would have it . . .
I’m already closed off. “Don’t miss the stop,” I say, pointing at the small gas station coming up on my side of the road.
He pulls over and drives across the gravel parking lot to a spot in the front. As soon as he shifts into park, he says, “I know you’re there. I think about it every fucking day of my life, wishing you were here or I was there so we would be together. I don’t have an answer that will feel satisfactory to you when you already think I’m doing this on purpose.”
“I don’t. I don’t think you don’t want to be with me. I think you feel caught between your career and . . .” I don’t want to say it. It sounds childish, though it’s true. “I won’t make demands of you.” A humorless laugh escapes me. “I can’t anyway. You don’t work that way. Neither do I. It’s one of the few things we have in common.”
“We have more than that in common.”
“Like?”
His pause only reaffirms my statement.
But then he says, “We both love strawberries, and Texas sunrises rival the sunsets for best in show, but we’d choose the early morning spectacular every time.” I catch my breath, afraid to make a noise in fear the mask that has slipped again will work its way back around his heart. “When I look at you from the long side of the picnic bench, I see how much you care about me. I care about you more than you can imagine. You’re not alone in feeling you’ve found something special, something most people will never experience.”
Is it fair to make him continue like this? Probably not, but I gobble it up heart and soul and swallow it down, savoring every word he says. “Which is?”
He pauses, his fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel and his knuckles whitening. As if it pains him to admit, he replies, “True love.”
“Well,” I start, the growing anxiety vanishing in an instant. “I have no comeback because I can’t argue with that.” I stretch forward, and say, “Does anyone else know what a romantic you are?”
“No. I’ve worked hard to conceal it, but you just bring it out in me.” When he grins, the world feels right again. I do just from seeing it.
Laying down my emotional weapons, I say, “I’m thinking one of those chocolate-dipped ice cream pops sounds good.”
He nods in silent understanding. I like that we both know when the war is over and peace is restored. “You want to go in with me or wait here?”