First Kiss Last Sara Miller (read after .txt) 📖

tangled together. Cade kissed her hair. She twisted her neck, trying to reach his lips with hers. He kissed her shoulder, then her cheek before claiming her mouth. They shared one more slow, sweet kiss. She heard him sigh and felt his body relax. She snuggled even closer and joined him in sleep.

When she woke, she was alone in her own bed. Her body still hummed. She smiled, remembering what she and Cade had just shared.

Leah grabbed her phone but there were no messages. Not even one from Cade. Her smile slipped from her lips. All the other times she’d dreamt of him, Cade had sent some type of code that told her he had shared her dream. What did this mean? Did he not experience it too? He had to have.

She wondered if Cade was finally waiting for her to reply to his messages. She wanted to respond but knew she should not. Dream world was one thing. In her dreams, Leah felt free to do and say whatever she wanted. But during her waking hours, she was not free. No matter how rocky her relationship with Eric was right now, they were still married. Engaging with Cade in real life would be wrong and she would not cross that line.

Leah sighed. She needed a shower and needed coffee. She flipped back the covers to get up and start her day. As the air hit her naked body, Leah shivered.

She searched in the bedding for her pajamas but they were nowhere to be found.

Chapter 11

A second Saturday without Eric left Leah at a loss. Sure, she filled last weekend shopping with her sister, but she could not do that again so soon. And other than needing a few groceries, it appeared her day was wide open.

After checking the fridge and the cupboard, Leah sat down to make a grocery list. She decided she wanted to do more cooking and baking.

She used to love being in the kitchen with Gigi. Her grandmother always let her help. She could not count the number of meals and treats they prepared together.

A thought crossed her mind. How had she spent so much time with Gigi? In retrospect, her memories did not seem plausible. The sheer number of memories far outweighed the amount of times she could have been at her grandmother’s house. She knew logically she could not have been there more than one weekend a month.

Were her memories not real?

Had she dreamt them?

Leah dropped her pen at the thought. They sure felt real. But then so did last night. Her brain whirled. She had really been at Gigi’s house all those times, hadn’t she? How else would she know how to make all her old favorites?

Leah stared down at her list, unseeing. She wanted to say they were all real but she knew there was at least one memory that was actually a dream. Lily had asked her about it last weekend: Gigi’s ring.

She remembered it clearly. Gigi’s house was warm and cozy because they were always in the kitchen, something bubbling on the stove or baking in the oven. This time they were making bread. It was extra warm and Gigi had cracked the window, something she rarely did. They worked side-by-side through the heat. Chatting as they went.

The bread had turned out amazing, as almost all of Gigi’s creations did. Leah could not remember anything tasting so good. They ate fresh, hot slices before the bread had even properly cooled. It would have been a perfect memory except for what happened a few days later.

Leah and Lily had been playing in the yard when their mother ran out of the house bellowing at them to get in the car. Both girls begged to know where they were going but their mother refused to explain. Leah remembered the fear and anxiety she felt as they rode in silence. She’d clutched Lily’s hand as soon as she realized where they were headed and did not let go.

When the car finally pulled into Gigi’s driveway and they saw their grandmother sitting on the porch, Leah let out a shaky breath. She wanted to cry with relief, thankful Gigi was okay. Curiosity now replaced her worry and she released her sister’s hand. Leah looked at Lily and they both shrugged, unsure what to make of things. They quickly unbuckled, climbed out of the car and followed their mother.

Normally, Gigi would rush to the girls and envelope them both in a bone crushing hug. Today, however, Gigi went straight to their mother.

“I can’t find it!”

“It’s okay, Mom, we’re here now. We’ll help you look.” Leah watched her mother take Gigi’s arm and lead her into the house.

“Find what?” Lily had asked.

Leah shrugged.

“Girls come on, Gigi lost her ring!” Their mother was cross. They hurried inside.

Gigi sat on her gaudy floral couch wringing her hands. Leah sat beside her. She took her grandmother’s hands in her own and held them still.

“Leah, stay with Gigi,” their mother snapped. “Lily, come with me.”

Leah sat with Gigi and waited. She listened to the clock on the mantel tick as her mother and sister went from room to room. They finally returned after having a thorough look around.

“I can’t find it either, Mom. When was the last time you remember seeing it? When did you wear it last?”

“Well, now, it’s been a few days . . .” Gigi looked momentarily flustered by the scowl her daughter was giving her.

Leah could relate. She hated when her mom looked at her like that too. She squeezed Gigi’s hand reassuringly. It must have helped because Gigi fought back.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I taught you that look! I thought it would turn up. I honestly did!”

“A wedding ring isn’t something that just ‘turns up,’ Mom! Now think: when did you have it last?”

“I guess . . . the last I truly remember it was the other day when Leah and I made bread.”

Leah remembered Gigi taking off her ring