Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
A laugh passes my lips before I can stop it, and I can’t decide if the kid is amused or offended by my reaction. Either way, I can relate. When my parents died when I was fourteen, my grandparents stuck to my sister, Mira, and me like glue for months. Then again, I’d known my parents for my whole life.
Why hasn’t this boy known his dad?
Before the thought can take root, I shove it out of my mind. Family relationships can be complicated, and this is not my circus. I have enough of my own crap to worry about.
“So …” he asks, grinning. “You are single?”
I’m not exactly sure how to answer him. If I tell him that I’m not in a relationship—that I’m technically single—he might take that the wrong way. But I’m not in the business of explaining to little boys, who are too nosy for their own good, that I’m not looking to change that. It’s not like I can tell him that my last boyfriend cheated on me and is now trying to dethrone me as the Pickleball Princess with his mistress in tow.
That’s too much for me, let alone this kid.
“What’s your name?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Augustus. My friends call me Gus.”
I grin. “Okay, Gus. It’s complicated.”
He stares at me. I wait for him to respond but get nothing.
“Hello?” I ask.
“I was waiting on you to tell me your name, considering you used Gus and all.”
“I’m Marcia. My friends call me Markie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Markie.” Gus leans against the table as if he’s settling in for the long haul. “Now, why is your relationship status complicated?”
“I have things I’m working on and don’t have time to date.”
“Like what?”
“Like a pickleball tournament, for one.” I straighten the stickers that Brenda gives away as marketing material. “I’m not in the dating pool, so you’re going to have to hook your dad up with someone else.”
“But you’re his type.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Gus groans. “You’re telling me. I thought you were the answer to my prayers.”
I laugh, waving over his head at the mayor’s wife. Plenty of men have thought that. Join the club. “There are plenty of single women in Sugar Creek. I’m sure the answer to your prayers is out there.”
“I’m sure. Except I never get two minutes to myself to find her. You’re basically my only hope.”
“Oh, so you weren’t picking me based on compatibility, just availability.”
He narrows his eyes. “It was a mixture. I’m working with what I have.”
“Well, I’m sorry for ruining your dreams, Gus.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” His shoulders slump. “I better get going. I’ve spent four minutes away from Dad, and I’m sure he’s looking for me. God forbid I have some space.” He shakes his head. “It was nice to meet you. I hope your decision keeps you up at night.”
“Hey!” I laugh. “That’s not nice.”
Before he can respond, a set of large hands grip his shoulders.
My gaze trails up the muscled forearms, over the developed biceps and sharp jaw, and into another set of sparkling green eyes.
They’re the kind of eyes that I love—playful. Slightly wicked. Eyes that promise a good, slightly debaucherous time.
“Where have you been?” the man asks, his gaze never leaving mine.
“Shopping,” Gus answers, a cocky edge to his tone.
The man surveys the jam behind me. “Find anything worth bringing home?”
Gus’s grin deepens. “We’ll see.”
Oh, this little shit.
CHAPTER
TWO
Markie
“Dad, meet my new friend, Markie,” Gus says, winking at me like we’re as thick as thieves. I lift a brow, which only seems to amuse him even more. “Markie, this is my dad, Jory Plath.”
Why does that name ring a bell? It tugs at something in the back of my mind, and if Jory and Gus weren’t so entertaining—and Jory so damn attractive—I might be able to figure out why.
Jory slides his hands off Gus’s shoulders, his lips twisting into a smirk reminiscent of his son’s. “Seems that my son inherited more than my green eyes.”
“I sense a really cheesy line on its way …” I say, trying not to smile.
Jory’s laugh is warm and easy. “I was about to say that he has a knack for finding the prettiest woman in a room, but I guess I’ll keep that to myself. I’d hate to be cheesy.”
“Come on, Dad.” Gus sighs. “You can do better than this. Don’t embarrass me.”
I bite my lip, but a giggle escapes anyway.
Gus steps to the side so he can see both of us at once. “I’ve spent the past four minutes buttering her up. I crafted a perfect opening for you, and you come in with that? It’s no wonder you’re single.”
“I think you both have some work to do,” I say to Gus.
He flinches, as if suggesting he isn’t a brilliant matchmaker is ludicrous.
“Your dad’s line might’ve fallen flat on its face—”
“Hey!” Jory protests.