Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I find my baking clothes—yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt along with a new pair of panties and a bra that matches. I’ll change into my spare uniform at the diner later on, when it’s time to start serving.
I start to take the clothes into the bathroom to change. But then I realize that will look like I’m hiding myself from Kane, and I just told him he was free to look at me.
So, cheeks still burning, I turn to face him. As nonchalantly as I can, I slip off undies and throw them in the hamper. Usually I would take a shower, but there’s no time now so I just step into the fresh pair without trying to hide what I’m doing.
I can feel his eyes on me—those pale eyes that aren’t quite gray and aren’t quite blue. I can’t help remembering how he looked without his shirt. He’s so muscular all over—his muscles have muscles! Seriously, it’s like hugging warm, solid steel when I’m in his arms.
I like his tattoos, too. He has one that’s especially interesting on his left biceps. It’s a wolf’s head with the muzzle pointed up—maybe howling at the moon. It’s clear it wasn’t done in a regular tattoo parlor—some of the lines are rough and crude. But the tattooist had real talent—it’s like a primitive work of art.
He also has a brand on his left wrist. My daddy had one like it, as I recall. I wonder if it means anything. Whenever I asked my dad about his, he always said, “That’s for daddies to know and little girls to find out” and that was all the answer I ever got from him.
I think about asking Kane about his, but what if it’s a scar from prison? I don’t want to bring back bad memories.
At last, I’m all dressed and ready to go and so is he.
Time for work. I hope Kane likes it—I want him to have a reason to stay.
12
SUNNY
“You know,” he says, after I feed Miss Sassy and we head out the door towards The Pie Shop. “If I’m going to stay here, I need to get some new clothes. These are the only ones I have.” He nods down at himself.
“Oh, I can help you with that,” I say. “I mean, I don’t have a whole lot saved up right now and I try really hard not to live on my credit cards, but—”
“Hey—no!” He gives me a horrified look. “I’m not saying I want you to buy me some clothes—I have some money saved up. In fact, I’m going to pay you rent while I’m staying with you.”
“You will not!” I say sharply, frowning up at him. “Kane Michael Black, you are not going to give me one dime! You’re family—I wouldn’t dream of charging you rent!”
He looks taken aback by my vehemence.
“Well…at least let me fix a few things around your house,” he offers at last. “I mean, you’ve got some warping around the front door and some of the windows. If you’d let me replace the wood there, it would be a lot less drafty inside.”
“Hmm, I like the sound of that.” I know that he worked in the prison’s wood shop for most of his time there. It’s an assignment that only the most trusted inmates can get because they have to handle power tools and sharp objects you could use to hurt somebody with. Kane told me in his letters that they accounted for every tool multiple times a day—just like they counted the inmates all the time, to make sure none of them had escaped.
We get to The Pie Shop and I let us in through the back entrance. Most people know we don’t open until seven, but if you turn on the front house lights, people will start showing up regardless of what the sign on the door says.
The kitchen is small, but neat as a pin. Cookie spent some time in the military and he’s a stickler for keeping things clean. The Pie Shop has never once failed a health inspection—a fact that we’re all really proud of. And when I say “we” I mean me and Cookie and my best friend, Annabelle, who’s the other full-time waitress. We have a few other girls who pick up shifts occasionally and up until last week we had a dishwasher/busboy but he’s gone now—he got a scholarship and moved away for college.
I wish I could afford to go to college full-time—I’ve said as much to Kane in my letters to him. He’s always very encouraging, telling me he’s sure I’m a great student. As a matter of fact, I am, but it’s nice to hear that someone else besides me thinks it.
As soon as we get situated and wash our hands, I put on an apron. I put one on my big brother too.