Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“This is weird,” Charlotte said, laughing, as she spread out the blanket on the grass. Of course, it wasn’t the white-and-red gingham dictated by tradition, but a subdued forest green and dark blue tartan, perfect for getting lost later, probably.
“Yeah, I don’t know why it’s that color scheme.” I lowered myself onto the blanket, catching myself with one hand when my leg decided to fuck out.
“Not the blanket,” she said, dropping the basket beside me. “The fact that we’re having this romantic date in the middle of a workday, right after I destroyed any hope of a peaceful relationship with my future—”
I gave her a crooked smile.
“Okay, shut up. That didn’t mean anything. It was a slip of the tongue.” She jutted her chin toward the basket. “What do we have?”
I opened the lid. “Bottle of white wine… some meat, some cheese… baguette…”
“Very provincial,” she said with a nod of approval.
We unpacked everything, including the cheese board and fine china plates, filled our delicate crystal glasses with wine, and gazed out in contented silence across the serene lake.
“This is nice,” Charlotte said, swallowing a bite. “I’m not used to being around small water. If we went to the beach, it was the ocean, and it was crowded and loud.”
“Benefit of having a private lake. Although, I wouldn’t recommend skinny dipping.” I wriggled my fingers at her. “Leeches.”
She grimaced in disgust. “Sounds like personal experience.”
“Unfortunately.”
She brushed crumbs off her shirt and leaned back on her hands. “So, do you bring everyone you date out here?”
I shrugged. “Only the important ones.”
Although, I wouldn’t have called my relationship with Charlotte “dating.” We lived together. We’d talked, albeit briefly, about marriage. “Date” didn’t seem like a serious-enough word for it.
“You know,” I began, cautious about raising the subject again. “When my mom… you know, the eventuality of death… anyway. I’ll inherit this place.”
Charlotte made a noncommittal, “hmm.”
“Which means,” I went on, “you will also inherit it.”
Her eyes widened, then she composed her expression. “Yeah, well. Let’s hope that’s not for a long time.”
“Because you wish my mother a long and happy life?” I teased. “Or because you don’t want to move out to the middle of nowhere?”
“Both,” she said firmly.
“We could put a little cabin out here,” I mused playfully. “So we could pretend to rough it.”
“With meals delivered by the staff, of course,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But you never know.”
Something changed in her. The tiniest shift of emotion on her face that shocked me into the realization of how well I knew her. She wasn’t a mystery to me, anymore. I wasn’t as afraid of terrifying her with talk of the future or over sharing my feelings. I knew her the way I knew my left arm.
And I couldn’t afford to lose my left arm.
“What do you mean, things change?” I asked.
“You know. Maybe in twenty years, when you do inherit this place... you won’t be with me.” She gazed off across the lake. “Maybe you’ll have found some other high society person who fits into your life better.”
I scooted closer to her and took her hands in mine. “No one will ever fit into my life better, Charlotte. Where’s this coming from?”
“The fact that I verbally bashed your mother for what felt like an hour,” she said, her cheeks going pink.
“You only said things she needed to hear.” I wouldn’t let Charlotte chase herself away with unearned guilt. I’d worked too hard to keep her. She’d worked too hard to keep us.
“Listen,” I said, shifting onto my knees despite the pain that ripped up my bum leg. “We’re both going to change. Circumstances are going to change, and they’re going to change us. That’s life. But you and me? That’s not going to change.”
“I’m doing that thing again,” she said softly. “Overthinking.”
“Then maybe...” I pushed the cheese board aside. “It’s time to clear your head.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
I gently pushed her back on the blanket and lay beside her, propped on my elbow to look down into her face. Her pulse quickened at the base of her throat, and when I leaned down, she raised her head, meeting my mouth with her own. I let the kiss go on and on; we had plenty of time, and no one would overhear us. Kissing a gorgeous person beside a peaceful lake, surrounded by fall colors peeking out from some of the earliest trees... there were few things better.
I worked my hand beneath her shirt to cup her breast and groaned low in my throat when my fingers met bare flesh. It was pretty fucking remiss of me to have not noticed that she was braless. Clearly, I’d been neglecting my ocular duties; I would have to check out her tits more often. I brushed my thumb over one nipple, and she made a cute little moan of surprise against my lips. Her tongue slid against mine with feather-light pressure that I imitated with my hand, dancing my fingertips over her skin.