Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
My stomach swoops as he demolishes the wall between us.
“That’s better,” he says, sliding his leg over to my side of the bed, his toes touching mine.
At the contact, a thousand thoughts flood my brain. I don’t want to rush. I don’t want to get hurt by this guy. I don’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of not being able to navigate family functions when Hunter and I inevitably fall apart.
I pull my leg away, and he must know what I’m thinking.
“It’s a lot,” he says. “Their expectations. All the connections between us. It could all go very wrong.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s a lot.”
“It’s not that I don’t want things to . . . go further. I do. You’re beautiful and . . . I like you. I feel like you show me a side of yourself that not many people are lucky enough to see . . .”
“Or maybe you see a side of me that not many people can see.”
“I have my Lucy Jones glasses on, you mean?”
I laugh. “Maybe.”
“It feels like we’re connected on a level I didn’t even know existed.”
I roll onto my back because what he’s saying is too much. Not because I don’t think he’s telling the truth. But because I understand his words exactly. He gets me. And I get him. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. There aren’t many people who know me better than I know myself, who see the good in me when they’ve experienced plenty of the bad.
“At least tomorrow, you’ll be free of me. This weekend will be over. We will have both fulfilled our roles, and we can go off into the sunset knowing your best friend and my sister had the bachelor and bachelorette weekend they wanted.”
“You’ll be free of unreliable me. Forgetting the wigs and my seasickness pills. Not helping organize the groceries or drinks. You can’t rely on me, and now you don’t have to.”
His tone is jovial, like he’s in on the joke, but there’s something underneath that feels like he’s asking me a question.
“I don’t think you’re unreliable,” I say.
He doesn’t respond.
“Is that how you see yourself?” I ask.
“Maybe. Sometimes. But I really did have a lot going on these past few weeks, with Ed being so focused on the wedding.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t realize you were taking on more than you would normally. I just . . . I guess I don’t want to mess things up for Katherine, and you’re trying not to mess things up in the business. Both our motivations are . . . pure. You know?”
He nods. “I’m going to miss getting my ass handed to me.”
“I could record something for you. Just so you could have me chewing your ass out on demand?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Sounds kinky.”
I roll my eyes. “If kinky’s what you’re into, then it’s just as well that you and I stopped at kissing.”
He grins. “The stakes are just too high, right?”
I sigh. It was easy to get caught up with the flirting and the hard body, but if I put my brain in charge rather than my hormones, he’s entirely right. There’s too much to lose. Too much potential chaos. “Yes. You’re probably right.”
“Probably means you’re going to go down in my personal history as the one who got away.”
My stomach twists at the possibility that we’re both missing out on something that could be endgame good. “I’ll definitely be the one who got away. Not probably. Good night, Hunter Bain.” I turn to face the window.
I’m so happy that Katherine’s had the best weekend. She deserves her happily ever after.
And if I ever get mine, it won’t be with Hunter.
Chapter Nineteen
Lucy
I always wear a variation of the same outfit to work: dress and a jacket, mid-heel pumps, hair up and off my face. It’s my uniform. My armor. Since the pandemic, business casual has become the new normal, but after lockdown, I came back to work exactly how I’d dressed my last day in the office: ready. I take my job seriously, and I want people to take me seriously. I don’t want to be distracted by what I’m going to wear to the office on any given day. I always know. Because it’s always the same.
My boss’s boss, Sharon, is coming toward me from her office. “Oh, Lucy, there you are. Thanks for that report you sent through. Can I talk to you about it?”
I might have been heading to the bathroom, but I’m sure I can hold it. “Sure.” I don’t know why she wants to talk to me. It was a straightforward report about the team of paralegals I manage, how many cases we’re working on, the WIP, amount billed. It was a standard system report, but I added information about who’s working what case and what their rates are.