Chapter Nine
The days leading up to Thanksgiving passed in a whirlwind.
Everett arrived on her doorstep daily with coffee and then barely gave her time to get dressed before they went exploring. Given her late nights painting, mornings were difficult, and she relied heavily on the caffeine he bribed her with to get moving.
Everett took her for walks on the beach, and he held her hand as the surf rolled over their feet. Every evening they tried a different restaurant, most of which she hadn't been able to afford since losing her parental allowance after dropping out of college. Her earnings paid for the basics and little else, but since painting was all she'd ever wanted to do, she didn't consider it a sacrifice. Nor did she believe her future had to be based off a degree she framed and hung on the wall. Though the irony wasn't lost on her that her paintings were treated the same way.
She'd worked on the various projects she had going before leaving for Las Vegas, but knowing Everett would leave town in a matter of days gave her the excuse she needed to procrastinate and allow herself to enjoy the time she could spend with him.
Every day was a new adventure, and she'd be lying if she said the time off exploring the area she loved didn't go a long way to refill her creative well. Not to mention the company. Everett made their days fun as well as romantic, something that private, secret part of her craved. She might be a bit mouthy on occasion, and Amelia considered her to be "tough," but like most every woman, she'd at least silently admit to needing to feel wanted. A priority.
Loved?
She couldn't speak for Everett, but he was all she thought of when he wasn't around. He consumed her thoughts, her dreams. Even those had taken a turn for the better in that she often relived the night in Vegas and woke hot-cheeked and breathless.
"Did you fall asleep on me?"
She smiled at Everett's deep murmur but didn't open her eyes as Tomas drove them back from Wrightsville Beach and yet another restaurant. If she wasn't careful, she'd gain twenty pounds by the time Everett left Carolina Cove.
The thought of him leaving made her heart twinge with regret, and she tried to brace herself for what she knew was coming. Maybe for some people it would be easy to just go with the moment and see how things went, but she knew herself well enough to know she wasn't a long-distance type of woman. She wanted it all. Love. Friendship. A marriage like her parents' that withstood the test of time and all the trials life brought.
Izzy nuzzled her face against Everett's jacket-clad shoulder with a shake of her head and a low sound.
"Why so quiet, Isabel?"
The way her name rolled off his lips in his deep voice sent a shiver through her, and she mentally shook her head at herself. "My mother wants me to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow," she said, broaching the subject she'd avoided all week.
"And you?"
"And me what?"
"Do you want me to attend?"
Oh, tough question. "You're welcome to come, Everett."
"That's not what I asked."
She bit her lip and avoided looking at him.
"What are you thinking, Isabel? Talk to me."
She shook her head and refused to give voice to the thoughts swirling in her brain.
"Is it perhaps that you're worried you're thinking about me too much? About us and the future possibilities our relationship holds?"
Unable to stop herself, she lifted her gaze and found him watching her closely.
"Because if that's the case, all I can say is that I feel the same way. I’m thinking of those things, too."
"You are?"
The SUV jolted a bit as Tomas turned onto her street, but it was nothing compared to the jolt his words had given her.
They rolled to a stop outside London's Lattes, and Tomas put the vehicle in park.
Everett got out and held up a hand to help her exit. The gesture was sweet, romantic. And once again, her heart did a little flip of joy she tried and failed to ignore. She was way too easy. Her emotions were overruling her brain and the realistic view she tried to maintain regarding their situation.
Because this? She could see this going badly. Ending badly. For her. Because what woman didn't want to be swept off her feet by a gorgeous man?