Page 48 of Accidentally Yours
Paige shook her head, quick and sure. “No. It’s perfect. It’s emotional and grounded. Honest. It shows his growth and the undeniable connection he has with her. It’s romantic in all the best ways.”
Ethan’s smile grew. He wasn’t sure what made him happier—that he’d written that scene, or that Paige had liked it that much. Being with Paige had brought raw emotions to the surface, in ways that he was starting to be able to pinpoint and describe. And those emotions were bleeding into his writing.
“I didn’t think you were into my writing,” he said. The words had fallen out of his mouth, simply because they’d been sitting in his chest for some time now. He played it off as a joke, but there was a true, honest ache there.
Paige stared at him. Her smile faltered. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” he started, only hesitating because it hurt to say the words out load. “You refused to blurb my last book.” He tried to keep the internal cringe from reaching his face and wasn’t sure he was successful.
“I—” Paige blinked, her eyelashes fluttering like a butterfly. “That wasn’t about your writing.”
Ethan stilled. His brow furrowed. What else would it be about? “Marsha said my book wasn’t up to your standards.”
Paige sat up straight. “What?” Her voice pitched higher, drawing a few curious glances from nearby readers. “That’s not what I said.”
He gave a shrug, brushing it off. “That’s what I was told.”
Paige’s expression twisted in frustration. She leaned in, her voice going low and sincere. “That was right after my editor left, before Kaylor came on. I don’t know who passed that on to Marsha, but it wasn’t right.” She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand. “You’re an amazing writer, Ethan. Why do you think I agreed to write a book with you?”
He scanned her face, analyzing her expression, looking to align what he knew with what she was telling him. “To get a new contract? Publicity?”
She nodded and shrugged. “Yes. I needed both. But I wouldn’t stake my name on something I didn’t believe in.”
His heart gave a strange, lurching thud-thud.
“I readThe Last Bullet,” she added. “It’s great. You’re great. But that book’s audience isn’t the same as mine. My readers would’ve been confused.The Last Bulletis a thriller. There’s no romance. The heroine was more of a plot device than a partner.”
Ethan opened his mouth to argue—then shut it again. She wasn’t wrong. The hero’s self-discovery was the central focus of his last book. Honestly, he’d only thrown in a female partner and a few kissing scenes at the strong “request” by Marsha.
Paige’s gaze softened. “What you’re writing now? This is different. There’s heart. Connection. Vulnerability.” She reached for her pen and started spinning it slowly on the table. “This book we’re writing together, I think it will hit both of our audiences, with the romance and the suspenseful action.”
Warmth spread through his chest, her words like a matchstick striking flint. “I’m glad you like my writing.”
“I love it,” she replied, her gaze cementing her words. Then she nudged him playfully under the table with her foot. “But don’t let it go to your head, Cole. We’ve got a good thing going. Don’t mess it up with an inflated ego.”
He grinned, basking in her praise and the teasing way she said his name. And as she bent back over her laptop, scanning more of his words, Ethan reluctantly turned to his book again, though his focus remained squarely on her.
They worked like that for the next hour, wrapped in quiet companionship. Occasionally, Paige would read a sentence aloud, grinning or sighing dramatically. He loved the way she engaged with his words, how fully she dropped into the world they were building. Their story. Every time she laughed at one of his jokes or clutched her chest during a swoony moment, it chipped away at every insecurity he’d had about his writing.
They passed ideas back and forth like a tennis match, tossing out banter, side-eyeing each other’s teasing words, strengthening the story—until Paige leaned back with a yawn.
“I need to stretch,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “And get some caffeine. You want a coffee? I’ll get us some.”
“That’d be great,” he said, smiling as Paige stood from her seat.
“Hold down the fort.” She winked and tapped the table. “Energy boost coming shortly.”
Ethan watched her walk away, the sunlight catching in her curls as she disappeared beyond the atrium’s glass doors. He leaned back in his seat, exhaling contentedly. The warm light. Her laughter still hanging in the air. The fullness in his chest. He soaked in the moment.
With a sigh, he turned back to the open book in front of him, flipping pages, searching for an envelope tucked amongst the words, wondering how many books they’d peruse before discovering the next clue. But as he turned pages, a soft buzz interrupted his thoughts.
Out of the corner of his eye, Paige’s phone lit up. He hadn’t realized she’d left it behind. It buzzed twice, the screen glowing against the tabletop. Ethan didn’t mean to look, but the message was right there, staring at him, impossible to miss.
GambleOnLove:You have a new message from a match!
His breath caught.
Ethan blinked, as if the notification would disappear. As if he’d misread it. But the message stayed there, bright and bold. Staring at him. Taunting. Telling him everything he thought he knew was wrong.
