Page 21 of Promise Me Never

I wasn’t ready for that yet. Although to be fair, I’d read his work. “Next time dinner at my place, and I’ll think about showing you some.”

“Deal.”

“But it’ll be carryout. I don’t cook.”

“That’s okay. Cooking is overrated.”

He leaned in to kiss me and soon we were peeling our clothes off and having sex right there. When we were finished, I ran a hand over his smooth chest, marveling at the rippled muscles on his abdomen. “You must be a fitness nut. I haven’t met anyone over thirty with a body like yours.”

“I like to stay in shape. I didn’t realize being in my late thirties made me old.” He laughed.

“ ’Course not. I’ll be thirty myself soon. It was meant to be a compliment. I think you’re the perfect age. A fully developed prefrontal cortex, and past the recklessness of your twenties.” I tilted my head, staring at him. “But something tells me you’ve always had your head on straight.”

“I don’t know about that. Some might consider giving up your family fortune to become a writer reckless.”

I shrugged. “Seems to have worked out okay for you.”

I heard the ding of the timer.

“That’s dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

I stood, still naked, and walked toward the kitchen. “Starved.”

| Twenty |

Bennett

Bennett unlocked his study and turned on the lights. As he looked around, he thought that it needed a good dusting. Opening a desk drawer, he pulled out a microfiber cloth and ran it over the desktop, keyboard, and computer screen. It was nine o’clock and he was tired, but he still had work to do, so he pressed the button to turn on the computer. Savannah would be arriving tomorrow, and he had spent the day preparing. He’d had Felicia stock the refrigerator with all her favorite food and had her get pink peonies from the florist—Savannah’s favorite flower.

His hands hovered over the keyboard as he stared at the blank screen. He blew out a breath. Just write, he thought. You don’t have to use it, you only have to try. He began to type and if the words didn’t exactly flow, they came somewhat easier than they had over the past few days. He was distracted, that was all. And who wouldn’t be? His life was about to change drastically. After tomorrow it would no longer be only Finn and him in this house. Savannah would be here, and he would have to make conversation even when he was out of words. But that was what a marriage required. Compromise. Being there for the other person even when you didn’t feel like it. Suppose his moods pushed Savannah away and she left him? Or what if she drove him crazy? Tried to interfere with his writing schedule? He had a routine. A way of living and he wasn’t sure he was ready to change that. What if he had made a terrible mistake? Look what had happened with Poppy. He should never have invited Savannah here.

“Stop!” he said aloud. He was doing it again. Catastrophizing. It was going to be fine. He was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

He checked to see how many words he’d written. Still a thousand shy. He read over it. Utter shit. He highlighted the entire section and hit delete. He had to focus. Forcing himself to attend to the story at hand, he managed to finish just shy of eleven o’clock. He was back on top, and there was no way he was going to allow himself to slip again. Besides, he was famous. He needed to make sure he stayed that way. He was under more pressure than ever, though. Three years between books was not going to cut it anymore. He had to stay top of mind, which meant publishing a book a year. That took a lot of concentration and time on his own. That was when all the trouble had started with Poppy. She’d stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, wanted to know more about his writing routine—for him to share that part of his life more. He’d warned her not to pry. But the more you told Poppy she couldn’t do something, the more she wanted to. Savannah would be different. She was a writer, albeit a novice. But she would understand that he needed his seclusion, that his words belonged only to him until he was ready to share. She wouldn’t cause him any trouble. He would make sure of that.

| Twenty-One |

Savannah

The first word that came to mind when she drove up the long driveway and saw her new home was stately. The white stucco country colonial reminded her of something out of a Jane Austen novel. She had looked the address up beforehand, but the pictures hadn’t done it justice. At over five thousand square feet it boasted five large bedrooms, five baths, and was situated on 13.7 acres. There was a private lake, a built-in pool, and even a waterfall. She could hardly believe this was going to be her home.

After living in such close proximity to others, it was a stark contrast. Even the drive to the house down the long winding road had seemed endless, with no other houses or establishments in sight. The house was surrounded by trees, now bare of their leaves, and the ground was blanketed by snow. It would be gorgeous in the spring and fall when the grass was green and the trees adorned by colorful leaves. But right now, all she wanted to do was get inside and sit by a warm fire.

Bennett was out the door and running toward her before she got out of the vehicle. Trotting next to him was his beautiful dog, Finn. Bennett had shown her pictures of him.

“You’re here! Welcome,” Bennett said. He embraced her, giving her a long kiss. The dog sat next to him, wagging his tail.

“This must be Finn.” Finn ran over to her, his tail going a mile a minute. “Hi, Finn. Can’t wait to get to know you.” She looked at Bennett. “He’s adorable!”

“Give me the keys, and I’ll pull it into the garage and unload.”

“I can help,” she said, not wanting to seem entitled or spoiled, but he shook his head.

“No, no. I insist. Come on.”

She handed him the keys, walked into the three-car garage, and waited by the side door for him to get out. A green Range Rover was parked in one spot, and a silver sports car she didn’t recognize was next to it.

As Bennett started bringing her things in, she pointed. “What kind of car is that?”