Chapter 64
Katie
In romance novels, there is always a montage. When this montage occurs is not set in stone, but the general consensus is to
place it right as the main characters—the hero and the heroine, or the heroine and the heroine, or the hero and the hero,
or whatever you’re into—slip into that warm and fuzzy honeymoon state right after they bang.
The reasons for this are many: To keep readers hooked after hundreds of pages of sexual tension are released. To propel the
story forward as the end of Act Two turns into the beginning of Act Three. And, above all else, to show you—swiftly, broadly,
beautifully—what it feels like to fall in love.
Well, here you have it: The next two weeks were magic. We wrote our book. We made goat cheese tarts and Bibb lettuce salads
with green goddess dressing. We chased each other into the roaring ocean, hot sand burning our flying feet. When Tyler went
to his meetings, I’d either hang back with Meredith or bike to a coffee shop in town to proofread silent auction pamphlets
for my mom. Around ten, Tyler would tap on the window, and I’d close my laptop and let him buy me an ice cream before we laughingly
pedaled back home. I’d fall asleep in his bed while he worked on his novel and then, when he finally crawled under the covers,
I’d mutter his name as he wrapped his arms around me.
There is more that I could add, but it would be wasted space. My heart was on fire, and you know how to fill in the blanks.