Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
When it’s done, and there isn’t an ounce of tension left in my body, I look down at her still on her knees, and I think I might fall in love with this woman. She might think it’s a ridiculous time for me to have that realization, but I’d argue it’s the perfect time. It’s the moment that she was on her knees and brought me to my knees. It’s when I had ten problems, and they all went away because of her. And it’s when she showed me that no matter how shy about some things she is, she’s not shy about me.
She’s the perfect woman.
I drag her to her feet and turn her to the corner, my hand on her face. “My turn.”
“We don’t have time.”
“We’ll make the time. And just so you know, you’re mine. And a man should take care of what’s his.” With that, it’s my turn to go down on my knees, and I proceed to lick her until she’s crying out my name.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sofia
We end up throwing on jeans and T-shirts before grabbing Starbucks on the way to the passport office. There’s this surreal moment as we wait at the counter for our coffees that I think, we’re a couple doing couple things, creating our own habits, learning things about each other, like we both love white mocha with skim milk and whipped cream. I’m ridiculously pleased by the similarity, and as we climb back into the SUV and hand Paul his cinnamon dolce, I’m equally as pleased that he thought of our driver. I also decide that Ethan smells like a forest on a fall day, woodsy and wild, with a hint of salt and amber.
Once we’re at the passport office, there’s a delay, and we end up sitting in wait for hours, which has me wishing I’d gotten something to eat when we got coffee. During that time, Harper sends over the contract for me to review, but she summarizes the endgame. I’m getting millions upon millions if the Zoey brand goes big, and I know that’s because of Ethan. I also know it’s a little like the lottery. It may be pennies, not millions, but I plan to turn my soft thank you to Ethan while we’re here, in the midst of a crowd, into loud appreciation later.
When the time comes and I hold my passport in hand, I’m a little giddy. “No one in my family has ever left the country, but thanks to you, Ethan, I am.”
“This is all you, baby. The Zoey brand you created is amazing. It’s all about your talent. Let’s go celebrate with lunch.”
A few minutes later, we climb into the backseat of the SUV, and I glance over at Ethan. “It’s nearly noon, and there’s been nothing from my father.”
“Give him time to process. He’ll come around.”
“I’m supposed to review the contract and sign over lunch,” I remind him. “Then we fly out to New York.”
“We’ll stay an extra day.”
I sigh in defeat. “I don’t think it will matter.”
“We won’t know unless we try. I’ll call and make arrangements to leave tomorrow night.”
“I thought you had trouble at home to deal with?”
“It’ll wait. Let’s get this handled so you can look toward the future and enjoy the ride you’re about to take.”
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.” His voice is certain. “Now, where are we going for our celebration?”
“I know a Mexican place by my house.”
“Perfect. Tell Paul where to take us.”
“SOL, Paul,” I call out. “It’s on third.”
“I know it,” he says. “Good choice.”
It’s a full half hour later when we sit in a booth with margaritas, guacamole and chips, and my MacBook, as Ethan explains certain parts of the contract to me, outlining ways I could have gotten screwed and didn’t. “Now you know for the future what to look for. And now, you can sign and celebrate.”
My heart leaps, and my hand trembles. “This doesn’t feel real. I can’t believe this is happening.” I scroll to the proper page, accept a digital signature, and make it official. It’s done. And I hesitate only a moment before I send the screenshot to my father with a text: Zoey is happening! It’s done!
Ethan lifts our glasses. “Toast?”
“Toast,” I say, and set my phone down, accepting my glass.
“To a beautiful future dressed in Zoey by Sofia,” he says in what has to be the best toast ever.
We clink glasses, and I’m all smiles when my cellphone buzzes with a text. “I sent a note to my father,” I say, and quickly exchange my glass for my phone to find he’s replied: That’s amazing news, honey. I came by the shop and your house, and you’re not here. Where are you? Did you leave?
My heart leaps all over again, and I turn to Ethan. “My father tried to come see us. He’s asking where we are now.”