Page 52 of Miles

“Oh! You’ll finally show me what you’ve been pouring all your energy into, then?” I’d only asked a few times a week for three months.

“It’s very personal,” she reminded me, as always. “I wanted to finish the first draft before telling you about it, so you could see the entire thing as a whole.”

“What entire thing?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve been writing about us. Or, rather, you all. The dragons.”

I gaped at her. Just when I thought she couldn’t surprise me anymore. “What did you write, exactly?”

“Don’t worry!” she was quick to urge. “I changed all the details and added a lot of things, until there’s no way to know I’m writing about you guys. I promise. You can read it and see for yourself.”

“You wrote about us.” I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. “I guess I’ve never considered us worth writing about—or reading about.”

“It’s never easy to see oneself as being interesting. Trust me, you are. And I’m sure there are so many more stories to tell. I mean, what was it like, living here for so many centuries? What sort of changes did you see? Have things changed for the better, or for the worse? Would you go back and redo anything?”

“Hang on, hang on,” I chuckled.

Every question she asked seemed to excite her more, to the point where her fingers fairly twitched with the urge to start writing again.

“I would love to tell you all of it, and I can’t wait to read what you’ve written so far. You know I’ve been dying to get a look.”

“I know you have,” she smirked. “And I know you’ve been trying to sneak a look when you thought I didn’t know.”

I grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” she continued with a roll of her eyes, “I thought this was a good start. Under an assumed name if I ever decide to publish, of course.”

A book about us. Maybe more than one book. Even if she never published, it was almost comforting to think of our story being recorded somewhere. We would live on.

“I love you,” I reminded her as I sat down to start reading. Those three words didn’t seem enough. They never would. But I wasn’t the wordsmith she was.

She ran a tender hand over my head, flashing me a wry grin. “We’ll see how you feel when you’ve finished reading.”

Footsteps approached.

Pierce popped his head in. “Mary’s on the phone.”

Savannah raised her brows.

“This is how it usually starts,” Pierce told her with a smile.

“Let’s see what’s on Mary’s mind.” I took Savannah’s hand in mine.

“There’s plenty of time for reading later,” Savannah assured me, a wicked gleam in her eye.

Looked like I was with the right woman.

The dragon roared in agreement.