Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
And why would Ryder talk about getting engaged? We’ve only known each other a few weeks. We have a connection that I’ve never experienced before, she’s one of the most special people I’ve ever met and all I want to do is spend time with her, but I haven’t thought about what happens next.
What’s made me successful in business is not always getting things right, but that I don’t make the same mistake twice. When my relationship with Gabby broke down, I was clear that I wouldn’t ever put Willow through that again. I wouldn’t have her enduring the breakdown of her parents’ second marriage. And now with Gabby getting engaged, I have to be the steady ship. I have to be the parent that shows her that in the choppiest of waters, I’m her safe harbor.
Guilt floods my gut as I think about introducing Aurora to Willow. What had I been thinking? I was starting something I couldn’t possibly finish. I was just caught up in wanting to see Aurora.
Willow hasn’t formed any kind of connection to her, and I need to make sure she doesn’t. Aurora’s going to leave. I need to protect Willow from that, not expose her to it.
“Hey.” Aurora’s hand on my back pulls me from my own thoughts.
Instantly, I feel better now she’s close.
“Hi.” The collar of my shirt starts to itch.
“You okay?” she asks, tilting her head to one side, in that empathetic, caring way she has.
“Yeah,” I say. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Dance with me,” she says, her green eyes sparkling, her face lit up by the city lights in the plate glass windows behind her.
“Dance?”
She takes my glass and puts it on the table behind us, then scoops up my hand and leads me to the dance floor. Right now, I’ll follow Aurora anywhere she’s going and I can’t imagine ever feeling any different.
THIRTY
Aurora
“We don’t really need to dance,” I say. “But it’s an excuse to touch you in public and for you to touch me.”
He chuckles, circling his large, heavy hands around my waist. “How very devious of you.”
I laugh, and I notice him watching me as if I fascinate him. Instead of making me self-conscious, I just feel lucky that I get this man’s undivided attention, and my heart lifts as if joy and contentment are their own brand of helium.
“Devious.” I laugh again. “Can you imagine?”
He shakes his head and we start to sway to the music. Everyone else is dancing to the beat, but we’re here in our own separate bubble, and the New York City skyline is lit up like it was on our first date.
It’s perfect.
And I want it to last forever.
“I think you’re about the least devious person I know,” he says. “But I like that you save that tiny part of you for me.”
I smile at him and think of how much of me he gets that no one else does. How much he sees parts of me that no one else does. I smooth my hand up his chest in a way that’s now familiar. It feels like he’s mine. No one else gets to do this. No one else gets to stand in a New York City ballroom held by the most handsome man in the city.
“How do you know Ryder?” I ask.
“We’ve crossed paths a few times over the years. He was involved in the Anglo-American trade board for a while. That’s where I first met him. I admire his business acumen. He’s a straight shooter.” His eyes dim as he talks. “He’s protective of you.”
I frown. “Really?”
“Very,” he says.
“We’ve known each other a long time. He’s like a brother to me.”
He doesn’t respond. He glances over his shoulder and then back at my face. “Why didn’t you tell me about your promotion?”
A heaviness gathers in my chest. That’s a complicated question. “I suppose I haven’t had a chance to consider it yet.”
“What’s the job?” he asks.
I’m not going to lie to the man. He knows now, I might as well come clean. “Avril and Poppy want me to be the general manager of Hotel on Ninth Street.”
I watch carefully, but Deacon has absolutely no reaction on his face at all.
“They’re going to be busy with the new Boston project and would like me to be responsible for the running of the New York hotel,” I continue.
“Are you going to take it?” he asks. “You don’t sound overenthusiastic.”
“I have no idea,” I say. “My plan was always to go back home. New York was meant to be a three-month adventure.”
He glances away. What’s he thinking?
“Do you want me to stay?” I whisper.
We stop swaying and the room seems to fall silent. All I can do is focus on Deacon’s expression. He doesn’t look excited or hopeful.
He looks pained.