Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Then he takes the reins in hand and says firmly, “Drive, Honey.”
“He didn’t use a crop,” Isla whispers as we settle into the red-upholstered seat. I pull a blanket over her legs.
“You think I’d take you on a sleigh ride where they hurt the horse? No way. My teammates wouldn’t go for that either,” I say, then tell her the guys gave this to me.
She smiles but her brow knits. “Was that hard though? Them not knowing the truth?”
The horse trots along a well-worn path in the woods at sunset. Golden light glitters against the snow-frosted branches of the trees, turning the whole place into a picture-perfect Christmassy scene. “Nah,” I say. “They’re so focused on making sure I don’t fuck it up. That’s literally all they care about.”
“It doesn’t bother you that they don’t know the truth?”
I’m quiet for a beat as I consider her question. But the thing is, I’m not worried. For one reason. “Well…even if we’re faking it, the dates are still real,” I say, then set a hand on her thigh.
“True,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
“Isla, I’m having a great time with you. That’s all real. You have to know that,” I say as a hush falls around us. Only the clop of the horse’s feet and the faint notes of “Silver Bells” playing from a speaker in the driver’s seat drift past my ears.
“I do,” she says, emphatic, certain.
But I want her to know beyond a reasonable doubt. I lean closer. “Even if we’re fake-dating, when it’s you and me out like this, or when it’s you and me alone—hell, whenever we’re together, know this—everything is all real.”
She seems to fight off a smile, but then fails. “Really?”
“Really. So tell me what’s wrong?”
She draws a breath, then blows it out, making a cloud in the chilly air. “I told my friends the truth today. I just couldn’t lie to them anymore.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought about how that might feel for her. Awful probably. “Totally understand. It’s different with you and your friends,” I say.
“It is. I needed them to know.”
“I hear you. Do you feel better that you told them?”
“A lot better.” Then she laughs, and it’s self-deprecating. “I mean, you know how twisted up I was about doing a thing with you when you were a client.”
I drape an arm around her. “Is that all that’s on your mind? Or something else?”
Isla seems to blink off whatever it was since she shakes her head. “I’m all good,” she says, then gazes around as if she’s soaking in the snowy hills, the endless forest, the clean air. She turns to me. “I’ve always wanted to do this again—a sleigh ride. As an adult.”
“You never have?”
She shakes her head. “Only as a kid. It’s a little different now.”
I squeeze her thigh. “Hopefully different is good.”
“Very good,” she says as Honey’s tail swishes back and forth, and Noah barks commands in a low voice as he guides the sleigh through the hills.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“It’s my first,” I whisper, and that feels fuck-all vulnerable.
“You never went with your sister growing up?”
“I was too busy with hockey. But I liked feeding the horses and taking care of them. Guess it’s a first for both of us.”
She slides her hand under the blanket, finding mine, looping our fingers together. Warmth floods me, even in the cold night with this peacoat on. This woman? She just warms me up with this steady, calm feeling, like I could…depend on her. Rely on her. “Never done something like this before. Never with Regina. Or anyone else,” I say, since it’s important Isla knows this is for her.
“Good. I like that.” She sounds enchanted.
It’s a good sound. I want her to sound like that again and again. Hell, I want to be the one to enchant her.
“Me too,” I say, then drop a kiss to her cheek—and I’m immediately struck by how good she smells. “Have I told you that you smell incredible?”
“Do I?” she asks, flirty.
“Like cherries. Sweet and tart. And like a woman who wants me to fuck her among the trees.”
She wrenches away, her lips parting at first, followed by a flash of nervous laughter. Then her eyes flare with heat, with blue flames. Thank fuck. Was hoping I didn’t push her too far.
I’m not sure where that came from, but sometimes you take your chances.
“Rowan,” she says—half a chide, half an invitation.
“Am I wrong?”
She parts her lips, shiny in the winter air. “How did you know?”
I sweep more of her hair away from her neck and drop a kiss to her skin, murmuring as I go, “The way you looked at me back at the Christmas tree farm in Cozy Valley. Like wild thoughts were racing through your head.”
She bites the corner of her lips. But she’s shuddering, trembling. Then she says, “I do.”