Stealing the Sun by Nicole Whitfield EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Nicole Whitfield
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.9 MB
- Price: Free
Clarissa
“ARE YOU READY?”
I ask, looking over to Tyree.
The sun is just setting, but not before bright blades of light hit the
perfect angle, highlighting the almost orange-amber glow of his eyes. My
knees go weak, and I smile.
“I was born ready, baby. Truthfully, we can pack all this up, and I’ll
meet you at City Hall,” he says, walking closer to me. “You can wear
whatever you want as long as you make me your husband.”
He takes my hand and pulls me to his chest. The soft fabric of his cotton
silk blend shirt I got for his thirtieth birthday two years ago bunches under
my fingertips.
“I’ve literally been planning this since I was five. No way are we
running to the courthouse,” I say with a smile.
He squeezes my hip and slides his nose along my neck, cocooning us in
a bubble of warmth that I melt into. “I know, baby. It’s just the planning can
be a lot.”
I want to take his words personally, but how can I? There’s truth in each
syllable. We’re in the thick of wedding planning, and it’s not for the faint of
heart. Even with my vision that was decided well before I knew the true
meaning of marriage, I still find this process exhausting at times.
“We better get going. Don’t want to be late.”
His warm breath rushes from my words, and the weight of his head
pulls us closer. We’re still in the midst of winter, but I do nothing to deter
this moment. I allow the chill to seep into my bones. It’s comfortable and
familiar, and I sink my toes into my shoes and wrap my arms around his
waist.
“I love you, Clarissa.” He grips me tighter.
“Hmm, I love you too.”
He kisses my neck before he pulls away and stares down at me.
“Come on.” He drags me into the restaurant, and the warm air is like a
robe against my skin.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so cold outside. It feels good in here,” I whine,
bundling my jacket tighter. Tyree looks back with a smile and guides us
forward.
A well-dressed man in all black is orchestrating a line of his staff, and I
take note of the directions he effortlessly doles out as waiters with full trays
add to a feast laid out on a middle table.
“Mr. and Mrs. Williams, we’ve been expecting you. My name is Rick,
and I’ll be going over each dish and answering any questions you have,” he
says with his hand outstretched.
“Nice to meet you,” Tyree says, and I try not to dwell on the
introduction. It’s just I’ve always found the lumped naming convention of
spouses annoying. As though my identity is no longer my own and I’ve
morphed into his image. Those thoughts aside, I do love Tyree, and we’re
on the same page about what our union means to us, so I won’t go into a
debate about the patriarchy and how it rears its ugly little head in almost all
aspects of society.
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