Page 53 of Devoured By You
“Seven days, baby.” She shot me a grin. I forced my lips to respond, although the knife buried in my gut made it a challenge. Seven goddamn days, and work would interfere with a majority of that time.
Interfere? Jesus. Who was I becoming? Work had always occupied positions one, two, and three priorities in my life. It was my entire reason for avoiding relationships. I craved a healthy amount of sex, as any guy my age would, but the whole putting someone else first was something I consciously avoided.
Until now.
Until her.
“Check your phone,” I repeated.
Her ragged breath spoke to her anxiety. I squeezed her shoulder.
“Goddammit.” She snatched up her cell. “It’s from her.”
“Rip off the Band-Aid, Tilly.”
She took in another shuddering breath. Her eyes traveled across the screen, her teeth continuously grinding against her bottom lip as she read the message.
The moment I knew it wasn’t bad was when her shoulders sagged and she briefly closed her eyes. “She’s fine. She understands. She told me to enjoy my holiday and when I get home to England, we’ll figure it out together.”
I didn’t say “I told you so.” This wasn’t about one-upmanship. It was about taking away the pain from someone who’d unlocked a piece of me I hadn’t realized was shuttered tight. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again after we docked in Miami. An idea forged in my mind, growing at an exponential rate. And you know what? It didn’t scare me. It fucking energized me.
“Hey, Jill. Here’s an idea.”
“Always listen to Blaize Isaac Kingcaid?” She wove sarcasm into every syllable.
A grin stretched my lips wide. “Well, that’s a given, but no. That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Spit it out, then.”
There she is. My magnificent woman.
I faltered. My woman. How could that be? We’d met nine days ago, not nine months ago, yet I couldn’t deny the depth of my feelings. I wasn’t in love with her, far from it, but an intended second bite of the cherry had led to something deeper, something instinct demanded that I explore.
“What if we don’t say goodbye in Miami?”
Startled eyes fixed on mine. “How would that work?”
“I don’t know yet. If you feel the same, we can iron out the details later. What I do know is that I don’t want this to end. I have no idea what ‘this’ is.” I air-quoted. “But every part of me is insisting that I hold on.”
She gave me a look layered with uncertainty and elation. It resonated on a cellular level.
“Say something,” I urged.
A whisper of breath carried her words. “I think I’d like that very much.”
Chapter 20
Jill
This has gotten awfully serious, awfully fast.
Blay moved with the speed of a cheetah streaking across the prairie. My heart cartwheeled as he picked me up and spun me around. The joy on his face shifted something inside of me. It had no name, but intuitively, it felt important. Exciting. Scary. I’d vowed to take risks on this holiday, and Blay felt like the biggest risk of all, yet one with the biggest payoff.
I hadn’t dared admit to him, or even myself, how the thought of never seeing him again made me ache. It amazed me how close we’d gotten in such a short amount of time. My parents had married after knowing each other for only three weeks, but they were hardly bastions of a happy marriage. Despite their pious doctrines, their relationship had all the hallmarks of a couple kept together by their religious beliefs rather than a fervent desire to be with one another. But as I reminded myself often, I was not my parents.
Thank God for that.
Kelsey had asked me once if I missed them and my sister. I’d taken my time to think about her question before answering with a resounding no. In a way, my mother’s ultimatum had set me free.