Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“But I came here—Savannah—to see…” I shake my head and blink back the tears “…to see if I can do it better. To see if doing it better will make a difference in my life. In this life.”
Theo’s brow pulls tight. I can only imagine what he thinks of my sappy and cryptic view on life. I could tell him. I could say “I’m dying,” but I don’t owe him any explanation, and he doesn’t owe me an ounce of sympathy. Everything between us is a lie. We are nothing and that’s how it has to be.
Every kiss.
Every touch.
Every moment of skin to skin in truly stolen breaths.
It’s all nothing but a fleeting moment—a now with nothing brought from the past and nothing borrowed from the future. What if life could be that for everyone? What if every moment was free from expectations and regret? What if we started counting time in breaths instead of seconds? What if I could hold my breath and stop time?
I smile. That’s my ah-ha moment. When we stop breathing … time does stop. That’s when we know our time is up. I think I’ll keep counting breaths.
“I’m holding you up.” I turn and head down the stairs.
“Maybe I can quit a little early.”
I turn.
Theo shrugs. “Maybe I can make us dinner. You know … Food. Small talk. Maybe I say something that makes you grin. Maybe you say something that makes me laugh. Maybe the food is crap so we drink too much wine. Maybe the full moon beckons us to the beach where we walk in the shadows of the night. Maybe you tell me something about yourself. Maybe it’s a lie, and maybe that’s okay because we’re both going our separate ways in a few months. But maybe … just maybe for one night we feel human.”
I won’t love you, Theodore Reed. I can’t.
I nod. “I’d like that very much.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My name is Scarlet Stone and I would stick my hand in a biscuit barrel of poisonous snakes on the off chance that there might be one biscuit left.
Theodore
It’s been a week since I’ve looked at the newspaper clippings and photos. It’s been a week since I polished my knives and closed my hand around my .45 Winchester Magnum or assembled my .22 long rifle. It’s been a week since I’ve thought about killing anyone.
“What is this?” Scarlet covers her mouth with a napkin and coughs a few times.
“Tofu. You said you didn’t eat meat.” I cut into my medium rare steak.
“What did you do to it?” She gulps down her water then takes a sip of Merlot.
“Fried it in a pan with some of your sea salt.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“That’s it. You’re feeding me salted, fried tofu?”
I tap my fork on the bowl of steamed broccoli.
She shakes her head. “You might want to look into a steamer. This broccoli is crunchy.”
“It’s perfect. Had I cooked it any longer it would have been mush.”
“I like mushy veg.” She shrugs. “Maybe it’s a British thing.”
I grab the bottle of wine in one hand and our glasses in my other hand. Then I stand. “But the wine suits Her Royal Highness?”
She rolls her eyes and pushes away from the table. “The wine is perfect, just like the company.”
Don’t say that, Scarlet. Don’t ever say that.
I can’t help but relinquish a small grin. “The beach is calling.”
As she steps off the boardwalk into the sand, she stumbles a bit and laughs. “Mr. Reed, I do believe you’ve gotten me a little tipsy.”
She’s taken two sips of wine. There’s no way she’s tipsy. I set our glasses on the top of the railing and refill mine. Then I top off hers. “Here.”
She narrows her eyes as she takes the glass. “Your response to me being tipsy is another glass of wine?”
Tapping my glass against hers, I grin. “Just seeing if alcohol makes you itchy.”
Her wild curls whip in the breeze when she turns. Then she flips off her sandals and trudges toward the water, ignoring my comment. “Tell me a lie, Theo.”
The wind presses her dress to her body, revealing small curves that weren’t there a few weeks ago. She’s by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. My life is nothing more than bad timing separated by unimaginable moments of tragedy. I’d reconciled my pain with the promise of revenge … until her.
She looks over her shoulder and smiles. “Did you hear me?”
I nod slowly, drawing in a breath to replenish the one she steals every time I look at her. “I grew up in Lexington, Kentucky. My father trained horses. My mother worked at the university.”
“I already love this story. So you know how to ride a horse?”
“I was a jockey.”
Laughter fills the night air as she throws back her head, some of her wine sloshes out of the glass. “Aw … poor horse.”