Page 116 of Tangled in Vows

She gazes at him, and her entire expression softens. “Thank you.”

I want this. I want to have a special connection with someone who looks at me differently than they look at anybody else.

And I want that with Holden.

Evie focuses back on me. “Sorry, girl.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m good. Get cleaned up. And thank you. I appreciate you talking this through with me.”

Her eyes flare wide. “Did it help?”

“Yes, I think it helped.” I smile and wave before she can ask more questions. “Talk to you soon.”

Holden findsme in the kitchen as I close my mouth around another piece of sweet potato.

One glance at my overflowing plate has him chuckling. “Someone was hungry, huh?”

I nod.

He brushes my hair off my shoulder and presses a gentle kiss against the side of my throat. Lingering on my pulse point before mumbling, “You should have told me. I would have brought you something.”

My skin buzzes from his touch, and focusing on his words is a struggle. All I want is more of this intoxicating feeling of having his hands and mouth on me. I’m already addicted to it, but I can’t help that insistent urge to find out if we’re on the same page. If we’re feeling the same way.

Two souls who found each other.

Intertwined in ways that can’t be undone.

Yet, are we on the same side?

The words flow through my mind, accompanied by a beautiful melody I can’t forget. Unable to help myself, I whisper,“One second,” to Holden before picking up my phone and typing furiously in a new note.

Holden’s gaze never wavers from me, even after I finish, while the memory of the song lingers in the back of my mind like a beautiful caress.

“Sorry about that. Just had to write something down quickly before I forget it.”

He leans against the side of the kitchen island, his large frame casting a shadow over me.

“No worries. Genius strikes when it strikes.”

We stare at each other for a split second before a laugh bursts out of me.

He joins in. “Don’t ask me where that came from, but I’m sure there’s more.”

I hold my hand against my quivering stomach. “Gosh, I hope so.”

“You seem happy.”

I swallow. “I am.”

“Today went well then?”

“It did. We finished the song.”

“That’s great?”

He says it as a question rather than a statement, probably because he knows how much recording this song has affected me.

“It is. This week has been tough, but now I’m kind of glad I recorded the song.” I inhale deeply. “I never meant for the whole world to hear it, but in a way, it was also cathartic.”

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