Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 123435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Now it’s Cassie’s outraged voice.
Wait, is this actually real?
I spin around. Unfortunately forgetting the delicate paper-bag pyramid in my hands. I manage to hold on for dear life, but the fruit bag is in great peril, and Cassie runs over to grab it out of my hands.
“You okay there?” she teases.
All I can do is stand and gawk.
“Tate?”
Finally, I find my voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I asked the guy at the marina where you were, and he said you came here to buy groceries, so my cab driver brought me—”
“No, I mean here. In New Zealand. You realize you’re in New Zealand, right?”
“No! Really? I thought I was on a beach in Miami!”
A smile springs to my lips. Goddamn. I missed her. And I can’t stop staring at her. Her red hair is twisted in a loose knot on top of her head. She’s wearing jean shorts and a blue T-shirt. White sneakers. Her eyes are shining and her cheeks are flushed, but the latter might be because of the sun beating down on us. It’s hot as hell here in the winter. Or rather, their summer.
“I’m still trying to figure out if you’re real.” I blink. Blink again. But she’s still standing in front of me.
Cassie smiles. “I’m real.”
“And you’re in Auckland.”
“I’m in Auckland.”
“Because … ?”
“Oh. Right.” She brightens. “I’m dropping off a care package from your mother. It’s kind of bulky, so I left it at the office in the marina. We can grab it when we get there.”
I stare at her again. “Now you’re just talking gibberish.”
Cassie starts to laugh. “No, I really did bring a care package from Gemma. I ran into her last week when I was home for Thanksgiving.”
I narrow my eyes. “I spoke to her the day after Thanksgiving. She didn’t mention seeing you.”
“I asked her not to. I wanted this to be a surprise. But I had to write a couple final papers before I could get away.”
“Cass.”
“Yes?”
“I am not complaining that you’re here. Not one bit. But what is happening right now? Why did you come?”
“I came because …” She bites her lip, suddenly bashful. “Because I missed you.”
My pulse quickens. “I missed you too,” I say hoarsely.
More than she’ll ever know. These last few months have been the most challenging of my entire life. Me against the elements. Singled-handedly sailing some of the toughest waters I’ve ever navigated. I’m not gonna lie—I was scared. Terrified I wouldn’t even reach my destination. But I persevered, and one of the reasons I did was Cassie. Whenever I thought, fuck, I might actually not make it, I heard her voice in my head, making some smartass remark. You can do it, Gate.
Now she’s right here, and while I don’t have a proper explanation yet, I can’t help myself. I set the grocery bags on the ground and pull her into my arms. She squeaks in surprise, but I just tighten my grip and let out a ragged breath. “Just let me hold you for a minute.”
And she melts into me. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. The soft strands tickle my chin. Her arms wrap around my waist.
“I really fucking missed you.” My voice is still so hoarse. Thick with gravel. I force myself to release her, searching her enigmatic expression. “What exactly did my mom say to you?”
“She said she wants her son to be happy.”
My chest clenches. The notion of hurting Mom is still so soul crushing. But these past three months without Cassie have also been pretty fucking awful.
“And she asked me to forgive her,” Cassie says. She meets my eyes. “I think that means she’s okay if I’m your girlfriend.”
Heart racing, I put on a cocky grin. “Girlfriend, eh? That’s rather presumptuous of you. Who says I want you as my girlfriend?”
“Sweetie. I think you kind of ceded the upper hand when you smelled my hair and told me how much you missed me.”
She has a point. My smile widens so big I feel like it’ll crack my face in half. The sun is almost blinding, but I don’t slide my aviators on because I want her to see my eyes. To see the sincerity in them when I say, “I love you.”
Happiness warms her gaze. “I love you too.”
“Are you really here?” I ask.
“I’m really here. And you have me for three weeks. I need to go home for Christmas,” she says regretfully.
Three weeks. Damned if my dick doesn’t twitch hearing that. It’s been three months since I’ve seen her. Kissed her. Touched her.
“Three weeks, you say?” I cock a brow.
“I have to warn you, though … I might need to put in some work on my next children’s book while I’m here.”
My jaw drops. “No.”
“Oh yeah. Five-book deal, baby. The first book in the Kit ’n McKenna series debuts next fall. They love it so much they want to rush it out.”