Chapter 28 #2
“Well, they can say whatever they want. Starting now, I don’t want to know about anything else, please.
I just want to enjoy the rest of my time with you and not let this spoil it.
But there is some truth hidden behind their words.
Based on my past relationships, you should be concerned I’ll write about us. ”
A smirk touches my lips. “You already have. As I mentioned before, I’m not afraid, Scarlett. I can handle your truths, regardless of the delivery.”
She stops and looks at me with fire in her eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, Ezra. I will fight for us to have a real chance.”
Emotions happen so fast, it makes me dizzy. This is not the woman who ran away from New York to hide. This is someone new, someone stronger, someone who’s choosing to fight.
“Oh, babe, I’m already there.” I hold out my arms, and she moves toward me, sliding her lips against mine.
“I’m sorry, I have morning breath.”
I laugh. “I don’t care.”
Capturing her mouth as she runs her fingers through my hair, we grow breathless. I’m tempted to pull her onto the bed with me. “No sex until you finish your book.”
She gasps. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Then I’m going to worship you from front to back.”
Her brow lifts. “So you’ll have your cake and eat it, too?”
“Fuck yes,” I say. “Now, finish your damn book. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Okay,” she says, grinning. The frown that was present moments earlier is gone. “Thanks for being my sunshine.”
“Thanks for being my clear skies.”
Scarlett moves into the bathroom, and I take a deep breath. We’re going to be okay, I know that. When she comes out, she slips into something comfortable, then grabs her laptop from the desk with determination. “I don’t know how you did that.”
“What?”
“Pulled me from my spiral and motivated me at the same time. Something like this would’ve given me writer’s block for days. I’d have focused on it until I was numb.”
“Things are changing for the better,” I encourage, standing up. Her eyes slide from my face, down my body, then back up again. “Now, what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes?”
Her eyes light up. “I haven’t had them in forever.”
“Great.” I move toward her as we walk to the kitchen, and I’m so grateful Millie had the place stocked with food for the week before we arrived.
Scarlett steps outside, onto the deck, and sea air wafts in. “Leave it open,” I say as she reaches for the door.
For a moment, I’m twelve years old, at this cabin with Millie and my mom as they drank box wine. My childhood was incredible. I glance over at Scarlett as she opens her laptop, and the screen glows, coming to life.
I start pulling ingredients from the fridge. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes. Strong.” Her eyes meet mine, and they’re fierce in a way that makes me fall harder. Her fingers hover over the keys, then they start flying.
She’s choosing us. She’s choosing to fight.
Her shoulders hunch, and the morning sun catches in her brown hair.
I make our coffee with steady hands, and when it’s finished brewing, I bring her a mug without saying a word. The last thing I’d want to do is interrupt her flow.
She looks up at me and grins as she takes it one-handed and keeps typing with the other. I take a mental picture of her looking so damn beautiful. This fierce, brave, unbreakable woman is refusing to let anyone else write our story.
For the next thirty minutes, I make us a proper breakfast, losing myself in the clatter of the keys as she continues to work. Scarlett is all focus, and I find her determination sexy as fuck.
I make our plates and carry trays out onto the deck.
“Thank you,” she says as she eats and works.
“Happy to do it.” I refill her coffee, then take the seat beside her, staring out at the beach as I eat fluffy pancakes with legit maple syrup.
After we’ve left no crumbs behind, I take our plates to the kitchen and give her space. She writes while I go back to her debut novel, enjoying her words. I spend the morning on the beach reading with a cup of coffee. Every once in a while, I turn and look up at her.
I’m grateful for this time with Scarlett, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll get to keep her.
The question has been circling in my head since the moment we kissed.
Now that the media is following our every move, the decision of her coming here seems like an even bigger one now.
That would be us publicly choosing one another, which is a big middle finger to everyone who thinks this won’t last. They don’t know what we have.
We take a quick break for lunch, then she goes back to it, and I stay on the porch, lounging. I’m blowing through her book and only have a few more chapters left to read. Every few minutes, our eyes meet and we exchange grins, but neither of us speaks.
As she goes back to her keyboard, I keep watching her over the pages of the book I’m holding. I feel something shift in my chest when I realize she’s writing our story. Even when the world is watching and judging. She’s being brave.
I’m concerned that when she goes back to New York, maybe she’ll realize Charleston really isn’t what she wants. My chest constricts with the thought. The choice is hers.
Twenty minutes later, the typing completely stops.
I turn a few more pages in complete silence, then look up at her.
“Everything okay?” I ask. My heart stutters in my chest.
I’m up and moving before I fully register it. My book falls to the floor. I’m across the room and through the door in seconds. She’s staring at her laptop screen while tears stream down her face.
My chest constricts so tight I can’t breathe. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She laughs, smiling wide. “I finished it. I just typed The End.”
Relief floods through me so fast, it makes me dizzy. “Hell yeah! Congrats!”
“I finished my book. The one I thought would never happen.” She stands and throws her arms around my neck, and I kiss her. “It’s done. It’s actually done.”
The relief that visibly washes over her is something special.
I lift her off her feet and spin her once while she laughs and cries at the same time. When I set her down, she cups my face with both hands, and I can feel them trembling.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Yes, you could have. But I’m grateful to be a part of it.”
She kisses me hard, and I taste salt from her happy tears. “Thank you for everything; for this place, for today, and for inspiring me in the best possible way.”
Our tongues slide together, and I pour everything I can’t say into the kiss.
“I’m so proud of you,” I say when we break apart.
“I need to send it to my agent, my best friend, my editor, and to you.” Her voice breaks with a laugh on the last word. “You promise you’ll tell me the truth?”
“You know I will,” I say as she sits back down.
A few clicks later, and I’m hearing a whooshing sound. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I smirk. “I think my favorite author just sent me her new book. Hope you didn’t want to hang out tonight.”
I can see exhaustion written in every line of her body, but there’s triumph there, too. “Do I get what I want now?”
My brow lifts. “Tell me what you want, babe.”