Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Hey.” Edward takes me into his arms and looks down at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
The engine on the yacht starts and I see people out on the deck undoing ropes. People seem to be everywhere doing everything at once.
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You seem nervous.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Why?”
“Just….” I give a subtle shrug. “This is just all new, I guess.” I glance around at the luxurious furnishings and this doesn’t seem real. That I’m here with him…. Doing this…that we’re officially together.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply way too fast. “It’s a margarita kind of night.”
“It is.” He smiles, his eyes have a certain warm glow in them tonight. “It’s so good to have you here.”
I twist my fingers in front of me, I wish I could say it felt good to be here.
“Go put your purse down, sweetheart, slip into something more comfortable,” he says as he walks behind the bar.
Slip into something more comfortable.
Something about that sentence triggers me and I stare at him as I have an out-of-body experience, he’s said that before.
Many times.
Right here…on this yacht.
To how many women I can’t even imagine.
I begin to hear my heartbeat fast and hard in my ears and damn it, I don’t want to feel like this. Tonight is about celebrating us making it, the start of our journey together.
“I’ll just take my purse up to your room,” I murmur.
“Our room,” he corrects me as he pours the tequila into the glass.
I nod and take the stairs, he needn’t worry about putting tequila into a glass, I’ll drink it straight from the fucking bottle tonight, right before I jump overboard. I climb one staircase, then another, then another and I hear music sound through the speakers down below. A low chill-session vibe…is this his fuck playlist?
Stop it.
“What the hell are you doing, Alora?” I whisper as I get to the top level, and I know that if I keep feeling like this that I’m going to ruin the entire night. “Snap the hell out of this shitty mood.” I walk into his bedroom to see black lingerie laid out on the bed.
Suddenly what he wanted me to slip into becomes very apparent. My heart sinks, because normal Alora would put this on and vow to blow his mind, make him beg for mercy and then some.
But for some reason I’m not her tonight, I’m some weak insecure version that not even I want to be around.
I go to the window and watch on as we pull out of the port, people stand in crowds on the marina watching the grand yacht leave and I close my eyes.
Disappointed with where my thoughts are taking me.
Ever since I found out about Hermione and his past with her I’ve felt unsettled, like there’s a huge part of him that I don’t know.
I knew who he was, I knew this was his life. So why am I letting his past upset me?
It doesn’t change a thing between us in the here and now.
I know that tonight more than ever…. I need to fake it till I make it. I want to have a good night, I want us to enjoy each other and celebrate in style, maybe after a few drinks I’ll be able to relax and be more present. Let go of all this bullshit.
Yes…. Good plan.
I pick up the lingerie and look it over, I’ll come back up later and put this on.
“Okay.” I talk out loud to myself. “Let’s do this.”
EDWARD
“Serve dinner now and then I would like privacy for the rest of the night. You may all retire and I want nobody above deck,” I tell the server.
“Yes, sir.” She disappears downstairs and I continue making Alora’s margarita.
She’s upstairs right now putting on the lingerie that I bought her and I smile at the thought.
Nobody blows my mind like Alora Sorenson, nobody….
The spa is hot and bubbling and damn it, I can’t wait to replay the last time we had one together.
“Hi,” she says softly. I turn to see her still in her dress.
“Ah….” She shrugs, sensing my disappointment. “I’ll put it on later.”
I nod and pass her the margarita and she tastes it. “Perfect.” She walks out on deck and looks out over the port as it twinkles in the distance. I go and stand beside her as she watches the land in silence.
She seems different tonight, distant.
“A penny for your thoughts?” I ask.
She sips her drink. “I’m thinking this is a great margarita.”
My eyes hold hers and I know there’s something bothering her. I sip my drink as I contemplate my word choice, in the end it just blurts out. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She forces a smile.
“Alora.” I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “I don’t like being lied to.”
“God,” she whispers, as if exasperated. “I’m just feeling really weird.”