the crowd.
And we’re always in a crowd. His friends are so zealous with him you could mistake them for bodyguards. How he laughed when I told him that. And then he stole me away for precious alone time.
I’m not so fond of his control. He’s a master at stopping before we go too far. He’s so hot, and it feels so good when I’m in his arms. I want him and it hurts to think he doesn’t want me enough to go all the way.
Maybe it has something to do with the sadness I sometimes see in him. He does a good job of hiding it most of the time but there are moments when he grows pensive and I can see it in the grimness of his mouth, the shadow in the back of his eyes.
I know it has to do with his family, but he rarely speaks of them and I hate to pry when his reluctance to share is so clear. Still, I wished I could help more. The best I can do is be there for him and take his mind off whatever upsets him so.
My friends and I have invited the guys on a picnic to celebrate the 4th of July—we obviously miss home more than we let on to each other—and I’m hoping to convince JC to go all the way. I’m ready for some fireworks of my own.
* * *
Amanda tucked a red ribbon into her mom’s diary to mark her place and set the book on her white wicker nightstand. She understood her mother’s joy and her frustration.
Amanda’s heart resonated in woman-to-woman kindredship when her mother mentioned how JC defined her time. It was as if Haley spoke directly to Amanda in matters of love.
Not that she loved Xavier. She clicked off the bedside light and drew the covers up to her chest.
She was smarter than that, but she couldn’t deny the man owned her thoughts. She was either with him or thinking of being with him.
As for the frustration? There were definitely times when Xavier was way too much of a gentleman.
It made her cheeks burn just to admit that. And still she longed for him. They met up most days and yet it wasn’t enough.
Tonight he’d had an event so she hadn’t seen him today. But tomorrow was Thursday, finally, time for their planned trip to Alcatraz. She rolled her eyes in the darkness. Could there be any place less romantic?
Still, she couldn’t wait. She’d have him to herself all day.
Her phone rang. With Xavier on her mind, she flung out a hopeful hand. She knocked into something and even as her fingers wrapped around her phone, she heard her mother’s diary hit the floor.
She told herself it was disappointment not dread she felt when she saw Grandmother instead of Xavier’s name on the small screen.
“Hello Grandmother.” Amanda sat up on the side of the bed and turned the light on. Her clock read 9:50. It was unusual for her grandmother to call so late. “Is everything okay?”
They’d spoken only briefly earlier this week when she called to thank Grandmother for sending the journals.
“Your grandfather and I are fine. I know it’s a little late, but it’s well known you city girls keep late hours.”
Amanda let that slide as she bent to retrieve her mother’s diary from the floor. She flinched a little, knowing her grandmother would be upset if she knew Amanda had been reading one of the journals.
Lying, even by omission, did not sit well with her. She’d been the victim of her grandmother’s well-meaning lies and half-truths too many times. But though honesty was important to her, she saw no reason to hurt the other woman.
“I’m giving an extended lecture tomorrow,” Grandmother came straight to the point. “I’d like you to come film it for me. It starts at nine. You can come by the house and have breakfast with your grandfather first. We’ll expect you at seven thirty.”
It was a typical request. Typical last-minute timing. And Amanda usually jumped to comply. The need to please was so ingrained she rarely thought twice. Not this time.
“I’m sorry. I have plans tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The nonplussed response came down the line, but Grandmother quickly regrouped.
And we’re always in a crowd. His friends are so zealous with him you could mistake them for bodyguards. How he laughed when I told him that. And then he stole me away for precious alone time.
I’m not so fond of his control. He’s a master at stopping before we go too far. He’s so hot, and it feels so good when I’m in his arms. I want him and it hurts to think he doesn’t want me enough to go all the way.
Maybe it has something to do with the sadness I sometimes see in him. He does a good job of hiding it most of the time but there are moments when he grows pensive and I can see it in the grimness of his mouth, the shadow in the back of his eyes.
I know it has to do with his family, but he rarely speaks of them and I hate to pry when his reluctance to share is so clear. Still, I wished I could help more. The best I can do is be there for him and take his mind off whatever upsets him so.
My friends and I have invited the guys on a picnic to celebrate the 4th of July—we obviously miss home more than we let on to each other—and I’m hoping to convince JC to go all the way. I’m ready for some fireworks of my own.
* * *
Amanda tucked a red ribbon into her mom’s diary to mark her place and set the book on her white wicker nightstand. She understood her mother’s joy and her frustration.
Amanda’s heart resonated in woman-to-woman kindredship when her mother mentioned how JC defined her time. It was as if Haley spoke directly to Amanda in matters of love.
Not that she loved Xavier. She clicked off the bedside light and drew the covers up to her chest.
She was smarter than that, but she couldn’t deny the man owned her thoughts. She was either with him or thinking of being with him.
As for the frustration? There were definitely times when Xavier was way too much of a gentleman.
It made her cheeks burn just to admit that. And still she longed for him. They met up most days and yet it wasn’t enough.
Tonight he’d had an event so she hadn’t seen him today. But tomorrow was Thursday, finally, time for their planned trip to Alcatraz. She rolled her eyes in the darkness. Could there be any place less romantic?
Still, she couldn’t wait. She’d have him to herself all day.
Her phone rang. With Xavier on her mind, she flung out a hopeful hand. She knocked into something and even as her fingers wrapped around her phone, she heard her mother’s diary hit the floor.
She told herself it was disappointment not dread she felt when she saw Grandmother instead of Xavier’s name on the small screen.
“Hello Grandmother.” Amanda sat up on the side of the bed and turned the light on. Her clock read 9:50. It was unusual for her grandmother to call so late. “Is everything okay?”
They’d spoken only briefly earlier this week when she called to thank Grandmother for sending the journals.
“Your grandfather and I are fine. I know it’s a little late, but it’s well known you city girls keep late hours.”
Amanda let that slide as she bent to retrieve her mother’s diary from the floor. She flinched a little, knowing her grandmother would be upset if she knew Amanda had been reading one of the journals.
Lying, even by omission, did not sit well with her. She’d been the victim of her grandmother’s well-meaning lies and half-truths too many times. But though honesty was important to her, she saw no reason to hurt the other woman.
“I’m giving an extended lecture tomorrow,” Grandmother came straight to the point. “I’d like you to come film it for me. It starts at nine. You can come by the house and have breakfast with your grandfather first. We’ll expect you at seven thirty.”
It was a typical request. Typical last-minute timing. And Amanda usually jumped to comply. The need to please was so ingrained she rarely thought twice. Not this time.
“I’m sorry. I have plans tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The nonplussed response came down the line, but Grandmother quickly regrouped.
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