All I've Waited For Lindsay Harrel (top 10 inspirational books .txt) 📖

getting wetter by the minute. The guests sitting down the deck a ways stood and headed inside.

“This isn’t on you.”

Ashley rubbed her chest. “How can you say that? If I’d never offered to teach you how to dance …” Her gaze collided with the ground. Fat drops of rain now beat the decking, turning more urgent by the second.

Yet neither of them moved.

“Look at me.”

She refused. Not this time.

But ever so gently, he tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “Claire and I didn’t call off the wedding because of the kiss.”

“You didn’t?”

He frowned. “Okay, technically, we did, but that’s … it’s hard to explain.”

Her now-drenched clothes hung heavy on her frame. “Can you try?”

Blowing out a breath, he moved to sit next to her on the lounge. “You know I’m not good at saying how I feel. But I guess Claire saw something in me. Something that I’d been trying to hide from myself.”

Did he mean …? Ashley shifted her body sideways so her knees snugged against his. “And what’s that?”

Cold water bit at the tops of her legs, but she had to stick this out. Had to allow herself to make it through the storm, to see what peace might lie on the other side.

She rubbed her hands up and down her legs in an attempt to stay warm.

His fingers settled on top of Ashley’s, halting her movement. “That I care about you. More than I should for a guy who is marrying someone else.”

Her lips parted. Something deep inside her had always known it, had hoped that his feelings went deeper than the physical attraction between them, but he’d never actually said it. And then, it had only been that one time, on the trail by the Moonstone Lodge, and only in reference to his past feelings.

Even then, he’d never said the L-word—just that he’d been “crazy about” her.

What, exactly, did that mean to him?

He angled his head toward hers, their noses millimeters from touching. “Say something.”

The rain had started to let up, the sun peeking from behind the cloud cover. And yet, some clouds remained, some water still fell, albeit softer than it had before.

“I don’t know what to say. When you walked away the other night, I … I can’t tell you how much that hurt.”

“I’m so sorry for that, Ashley, but you knew it was wrong too.”

“You’re right.” Alongside the rejection, shame over what they’d done to Claire had settled firmly in, choking Ashley until she’d relinquished all right to feel hurt by his actions. “But then, when days passed, and you didn’t call or text or … anything … I knew you were lost to me forever. And now you’re saying—well, I’m not even sure what you’re saying.”

“Then, let me make it perfectly clear.” Derek placed a hand on her cheek. “I want to explore this thing between us more, this something that has always been there. I want to take you on a date. Yes, I’m saying it, a real date. And I really want to kiss you. Would that be okay?”

Her heart still ached, joy mingling with the lingering pain. But this was what she’d wanted, right?

“Yes.” She gnawed her bottom lip. “That would be okay.”

He leaned down, brushing his mouth against hers with the sweetest promise of what was to come.

All too quickly, he pulled back. “Now, about that date. Are you free tonight? I’m thinking we’re a bit overdue for dinner together at Mimosa’s.”

She fiddled with the bottom button on his polo, her insides vibrating. “I think that can be arranged.”

What did a woman wear to the first date she’d been dreaming about for years?

Ashley studied the pink dress on the hanger in front of her. Her nose wrinkled as she pushed it down the closet’s rack, grabbing for the next hanger. Hmmm. The green blouse was cute and flirty, but she’d had it for years.

A knock sounded from her front door. Who would be stopping by on a Tuesday afternoon?

She eyed herself in the bedroom mirror, grimacing at her ratty T-shirt and cutoff leggings. If it were Derek, he was super early and she’d turn him away. After careening down the hallway, she stopped to squint through the peephole. Madison stood there with a drink carrier and a white bag.

Ashley opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Her friend held up the bag, which was stamped with the Frosted Cake’s logo. “I thought you could use some reinforcements.”

“You or the food?”

“Both.” Her friend stepped inside the apartment and kicked the door closed.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you that I don’t think I could eat a thing.” Ashley placed a hand against her tight stomach before snatching the drink carrier. “But I will take this.”

She lifted out the caramel macchiato and took a refreshing sip. The espresso infused strength into her veins. “Bless you.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Madison set the bag on the kitchen table, which sat not too far from the door. “I’m just glad that the library closes early on Tuesdays. And that you actually texted me. I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

“That’s not true.” Ashley turned on her heel and marched back toward her bedroom.

Madison followed. “Maybe not weeks, but it’s definitely been a hot minute.”

They entered the bedroom and both plopped onto the edge of the queen-sized bed. “I’ve—”

“Been busy. I know.” Madison snatched the carrier from Ashley, plucking her drink from inside. “But this text today—Derek isn’t getting married and we’re going on a date tonight—I mean, what am I supposed to do with that? It tells me none of the juicy details that good friends are entitled to. So spill.”

Ashley put her drink on her side table and flopped onto her back. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m personally a fan of the beginning.”

“You’re hilarious.” Ashley caught her friend up on everything that had happened since the last time they’d spoken. Her eyes followed the dusty ceiling fan blades, which squeaked a bit as the fan