Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
He’s mine. At ease with those words instantly, I smile again, placating Ethel a little. “I don’t know about flexing, but if you play your cards right, I might be able to lift something heavy.”
Ethel grins. “God, I love young people. You have so much energy and spunk.”
I step inside with a newly renewed bounce in my step, and my smirk only widens as I take in the scene. Avery is standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a group of older women draped in clothes and jewelry, makeup strewn all over the coffee table. To her right, a rack of expensive clothes is set up, and one of the women is admiring herself in a floor-length mirror.
“Ladies, this is Henry,” Avery says, turning to face me and then blushing a little before turning back to the women. “The one I was…telling you about.” They all hem and haw a little extra, raking me with their eyes and cooing until Avery slices a hand across her throat for them to cut it out. “Henry, meet Ethel, Blanche, Dottie, Joanne, and Sarabeth. And this lovely woman here is Darla. We’re working on getting her set up with a new wardrobe.”
“Oh, he’s even more handsome up close,” Dottie says, peering at me over the rim of her glasses.
“Like a modern-day lumberjack,” Sarabeth chimes in. “That beard is impressive.”
Self-consciously, I scratch at the facial hair I’ve trimmed to a neat length but haven’t been able to bring myself to shave off yet.
“And those arms,” Joanne adds, fanning herself dramatically. “Avery, you didn’t tell us he was a Greek god.”
Avery rolls her eyes but smiles. “All right, calm down, cougars. Don’t scare him off. Though, come to think of it…you like older ladies, don’t you, Henry?” I nearly snort at the memory of Avery’s island commentary when I told her I had a crush on Ross’s mom. “Maybe this is actually a shopping expedition for your new mate.”
“I’m a changed man,” I tell her confidently, instead of getting embarrassed and tucking my tail. “These days, I find myself liking them a little younger. Twenty-seven, to be exact.”
“Oh, he’s not going anywhere,” Blanche says with a wink. “This boy’s in love. Aren’t you, Henry?”
Avery’s eyes jump to mine, and I balk only slightly at the three-word expression neither one of us has been bold enough to admit yet. I want to, but I hardly think brunch hour with the Golden Girls is the appropriate time.
“Something like that,” I settle for saying instead. “I don’t have any plans to be anywhere else, with anyone else, anytime soon.”
Avery avoids my eyes and messes with the draping on Darla’s sweater, but I know what she’s thinking. She loves me too. It’s the only thing that would stun her enough to keep her quiet.
“So…how did you all meet my Avery?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going without putting too much attention on the only common denominator in this room—my girlfriend.
“Your Avery?” Ethel asks, a big smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes at my slip of the tongue. “She’s our stylist, of course.”
I smile. Avery Banks, stylist to the senior population of Miami. It’s both ridiculous and completely perfect for her all at once. I can’t help but think this is the true direction she needs to be going career-wise, and this, though adorably weird, is a great start.
“She’s the best,” Dottie chimes in. “She’s been helping us all look fabulous for months now. If it weren’t for Avery, I’d still be wearing last season’s Ralph Lauren.”
“And we can’t have that,” Joanne adds with a wink.
I glance at Avery, who’s doing her best to look unbothered, but the slight blush creeping up her cheeks gives her away.
“She’s a godsend,” Blanche adds, gesturing toward the rack of clothes. “Just look at all this. Her eye for fashion is unmatched.”
“Is that so?” I say, grinning as I turn to Avery, but she just flashes me a knowing look, a silent, don’t you dare say anything right now.
I give her a grin that says, I won’t embarrass you now, but we’ll talk later.
Avery hands Darla a fancy cardigan and guides her toward the mirror. “Try this on, Darla. See how it pairs with the pants? They’re perfect for accentuating your hips. Which, come on, girl, you have to know you have great hips. Don’t be afraid to show them off.”
Darla blushes but follows Avery’s instructions, and I take a moment to glance around the room.
A fancy tea set and an array of finger foods sit on the coffee table in the middle of the makeup, and the rest of the women are sipping tea like this is a weekly occurrence. Which, fuck, maybe it is? At this point, nothing would surprise me when it comes to Avery.