Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Callie hesitates, her gaze flicking to where Nora is playing on the floor with Autumn and Haven. In the span of a couple of hours, the three of them have become thick as thieves. It’s like they’ve known each other their whole lives.
I can almost see the silent war playing out in Callie’s eyes. The mom in her wants to say no. Wants to stay and be the one in charge of bedtime and juice cups and wiping off sticky fingers.
But the woman?
The woman who hasn’t had a moment to relax, to feel desired, to feel seen, wants to give in.
She looks at me again, and something in her expression eases.
“Okay,” she says, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth before glancing at my twin. “But only if you’re sure.”
“I am,” Willow says easily, glancing at the kids and then her husband. “They’re having the best time together.”
Callie nods slowly, her arms still crossed, as she watches the scene unfold like it’s something precious. Something she hasn’t let herself imagine she could have. “They really are.”
I don’t say anything, but I could kiss my sister for knowing exactly what I needed.
This little moment is everything.
I love having Nora here in my home. She’s filled it with so much energy and laughter. I love how effortlessly she fits into my life, how naturally she clings to my hand, how she lights up every room she races into.
And Callie’s not just sliding into my life.
She’s becoming it.
It’s to the point where I can’t picture a future that doesn’t include the two of them.
Although, getting Callie all to myself, even for a few hours, is a gift I didn’t know I needed until it was offered.
We head down the hall to get ready. I shave, throw on a dark crewneck sweater and a pair of jeans. Something simple and understated. Even so, I find myself adjusting in the mirror, wanting to look perfect for her.
I’m halfway through pulling on my shoes when the bathroom door creaks open and Callie walks out. The world goes still as I glance up and find her there.
She’s wearing a green dress that hugs her curves in a way that’s both delicate and undeniably sexy. It hits just above the knee, revealing legs I’ve had the privilege of feeling tangled with mine beneath the covers.
There’s no glitter, no flash, no stilettos.
Just her.
And holy hell, this woman is the total package.
The real mystery is how she doesn’t realize it.
“Is it too much?” she asks, smoothing her palms nervously over her hips. Her tone is light, almost playful, but I hear the flicker of uncertainty buried beneath it. Like she doesn’t realize she’s just stolen the air right out of me.
Too much?
It’s not nearly enough.
I swallow hard, my brain scrambling to remember how to do basic things like form words. “You look…” I rake a hand through my hair, as if the movement might help me find them. “You look incredible.”
She glances down, as if suddenly shy.
And fuck if that doesn’t undo me completely.
It’s not just how she looks. It’s the softness in her eyes. The quiet vulnerability she’s letting me see. She isn’t putting on a show.
Callie is just being herself.
And I don’t want to look away.
Not now.
Not ever.
We don’t say much on the elevator ride down to the parking garage. Instead of the silence being awkward, it’s charged. Heavy with the awareness that something between us is shifting. I can feel it in the way she stands just a little closer than necessary and the subtle brush of her hand against mine. The floral scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, making it impossible not to notice her.
Not to want her.
When her fingers graze mine again, I give in and wrap my hand around her smaller one. She glances up, and our gazes catch in the reflective surface of the elevator doors.
Emotion flickers in her eyes.
Uncertainty, maybe.
Or perhaps it’s curiosity.
Whatever it is, she doesn’t look away.
By the time we reach the truck, I’m fighting the urge to back her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless. Every part of me hums with restraint.
Barely am I able to hold it in.
Instead, I take her to Gold Coast Table. I called ahead and booked a table outside on the terrace beneath the heat lamps. The atmosphere is quiet and intimate. Romantic in a way that won’t scare her off but still makes it clear this isn’t just dinner.
She smiles in delight as we’re led outside.
“This place is beautiful.” She smooths the napkin over her lap, as if trying to keep her hands busy.
“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can think better of it.
Cheesy?
Maybe.
But it’s the absolute truth. The words slip out so naturally it feels less like a line and more like the tide rolling in.