Page 67 of Bookworm and the Beast
He sounded a bit out of breath himself, and if I wasn’t mistaken... was babbling a little. I took it as a compliment.
Though he looked and sounded uncertain, his body still pressed against mine was answering with a veryloud,“yes.”
Which meant the topic was still open for discussion. I clung to him, pulling him close again, letting him feel what he’d be missing.
“Are you sure? You might need a little more inspiration.” I pleaded, sounding pitifully kiss-drunk now in addition to wine-drunk.
For a moment I thought Jack might take me up on the offer. His gaze bounced from my mouth to the bedroom door to my chest to the stairwell that led to his office and then back to my eyes.
Then he took his hands from me and stepped all the way back, snipping the exquisite emotional thread stretched taut between us.
The look he wore was regret personified. “You had a lot to drink. You should go to bed. I’ll call Harrison and ask him to bring you some bottled water and ibuprofen.”
“I’m fine. I’m not drunk,” I protested. It was a lie. Iwasdrunk. Andthatwas never a good way to be when making potentially life-altering decisions.
As much as I hated to admit it, Jack was right.
I exhaled, feeling a crashing sensation inside, tension collapsing into the vacuum of space left by his absence.
“Good luck tonight,” I said, sounding as pouty as I probably looked. “I hope you get what you need.”
“What Ineedwill have to wait a bit, I’m afraid. But for now, I’ll settle for one more kiss.”
He dipped his head and kissed me softly before releasing me. His smile gleamed in the dark as he backed away. “Good night, Bonnie.”
“Good night, Jack.”
When he’d moved out of sight, I sagged, feeling like I might faint. Or float.
That was…wow. That was interesting.
I had a hard time sleeping that night, reliving the moment in the doorway again and again like a teenager obsessing over her first kiss. I wasn’t sure how close Jack had been to accepting my invitation to come in and spend the night in my bed.
But I was sure of one thing.
I wanted him to.
Chapter Twenty
Just for a Minute
Bonnie
The shared morning walks became our habit over the next week, as did a family-style dinner in the kitchen with the whole staff after Jack had spent the day writing.
I laughed more—and ate more—than I had in years. It was a good thing I only had another week here or my favorite pair of jeans would be in serious danger of winding up on the “need to lose a few pounds to fit this” shelf in the top of my closet.
And that shelf was plenty full already.
I knew my heart would be in trouble. The thought of leaving this place seven days from now left me with a stone in my gut, and no amount of self-talk seemed to help.
You can go back to your old life!My inner cheerleader pointed out.You love your job.
I can do my job from here, I argued. I’ve been doing it just fine for the past three weeks. Or I could get another job… here in Rhode Island. The cost of living is lower. Dad and I could get a bigger place.
You love New York, the cheerleader countered.The lights, the restaurants, the stores, the people.
The ocean, the library, Monsieur Laplume’s cooking, the staff... Jack.
