Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I feel his lips press against the back of my neck. “Bad dream?” he questions softly.
“No, not tonight,” I murmur.
“Good. Go back to sleep. I’m right here.”
“Okay. Night, King.”
“Night,” he answers sleepily.
I think through my night with King and after the emotional turmoil, even I can admit that we had a good night. He made us scrambled egg sandwiches. That may sound silly to most people, but he asked me what I wanted and wasn’t weirded out at all. Nope. He just said it sounds good and made him one, too.
I was so touched that I found myself opening up to him and telling him that my father used to make me scrambled egg sandwiches when I couldn’t sleep. I’d sit on a stool at the island while he cooked, and we’d talk about my day in school or what I had planned for the weekend. It was silly most of the time, but they were moments I treasure. He’d listened and smiled at me. Then he fixed my sandwich and said, “I hope my sandwich lives up to your Pops, Sunshine.”
I didn’t tell him it was even better. If I had, I would have had to explain how much him being here meant to me, and I’d already fallen apart on him a couple of times today. I didn’t need to add a third.
Afterward, we went back to the bedroom, and he set up the smaller television on top of the media stand that Dani had the boys move in here. It was smaller than the gigantic one in the living room, but this was still a sixty-five-inch screen. Apparently, King really likes big televisions. He found the latest Eddie Murphy comedy movie and decided on it, saying I need laughter and none of that other bullshit—which made me giggle.
I fell asleep somewhere along the line and now I’m lying beside him, wondering how I got here. It was probably one of the best evenings I’ve had in a really long time—maybe ever. Well, if you don’t count the emotional rollercoaster portions of the night. Yet something still felt incomplete. I kind of knew what that something was, but I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. The dream that just woke me up with King’s whispered words that meant everything to me has added fuel to a fire that has been burning since eating the food King made for me.
“You’re not sleeping, Gabby,” King whispers, his hot breath fanning against my neck. I thought he was sleeping. I should have known better. He’s worried about me. He hasn’t made a secret of that.
“I know,” I answer, feeling warm and cared for. It’s a feeling I could get used to—if I wasn’t panicked I was going to do something to make it all go to hell.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now,” I explain honestly.
He tugs at me gently until I’m lying on my back. Then he goes up on an elbow and leans over me. “I’m thinking it’s an excellent one. Is the baby keeping you awake?”
“No,” I hedge.
“Gabby, what did I say?”
“Which time?”
“Woman,” he warns. I know it’s a warning, but I’m not scared. I’m actually smiling. Seriously, these emotional rollercoasters are crazy.
“I’m serious. You’ve said a lot tonight and all of it was earth shattering. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re playing with me?”
I laugh. “Okay, I do have something I want to ask, but you’re tired and I have work tomorrow. I think I’ll ask it another night.”
“Now, I must know. There’s no way I’m going to be able to go to sleep. I have to know. Spit it out, woman,” he fake-growls, looking down at me with a goofy smile I wouldn’t have thought possible on his beautiful, most-of-the-time somber face. I suddenly find myself wishing there was more light in here so I could see him better.
“It’s embarrassing, King.”
“I’m safe, Gabby. You are my safe place and I’m yours. That’s been our deal since day one. That’s not changing.” He captures one of my hands, links our fingers together, brings it up to his lips, and then kisses mine before squeezing them. “Tell me,” he orders. What he doesn’t do—I can’t help but notice—is let go of my hand.
Maybe it was the way he was holding my hand that gave me the extra courage that I needed, but I look up into those inky, dark eyes and bare my soul in a simple eight-word question.
“I was wondering if you would kiss me,” I answered.
My heart was having palpitations. I can’t believe I just told him that. I could feel embarrassment and mortification come over me. I open my mouth to back out when he stops me and rocks my world for the millionth time tonight.