Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
I bet.
Rhodes gives me a lopsided smile. “It’s nothing. Happy to help, darlin’.”
He’s so pretty, I don’t know how to answer.
August clears his throat and gives me the beady eye. “Want to show us the way?”
Still a little miffed at his high-handedness, I sniff and am about to head for the bedroom when Sarah comes out.
“Penny, I wanted to ask if—” She stumbles to a halt, her eyes going round as moons as she sees the guys standing in her living room. “I . . .”
That’s all she gets out. She gapes as though struck senseless. The silence stretches.
“Ma’am.” Jelly’s greeting is a little less personal than the one he gave me but polite nonetheless. As is Rhodes’s brief, “Hey.”
Sarah gurgles like she’s choking on her spit.
At my shoulder, August leans close and murmurs, “Rhodes is a Super Bowl MVP. Team picked him up as a free agent this season.”
“Ah.”
Sarah whimpers, mouth agape, eyes wide and darting between Rhodes and Jelly.
“And Jelly,” August continues, “is the best tight end in the league.”
“Hmm.” I slide August a look. And find him smugly content. Shaking my head ruefully, I show the guys my room, and they stride past a frozen Sarah to begin grabbing boxes.
There aren’t many, and it’s soon apparent they won’t need multiple trips. Rhodes alone grabs almost half of them in one go. I stand back and let them work, knowing I’ll only get in the way otherwise. August lingers behind as his boys head out, leaving a paltry box for him to take.
I watch them go, then watch Sarah gurgle out a weak “oh, my God,” before trailing behind them like a lost puppy.
“You picked them on purpose, didn’t you?” I say to August, knowing this was a little tweak on Sarah’s nose before I left.
“I might have done.” He grins but then his gaze narrows coolly. “Besides, they wanted to help after hearing how you got abruptly booted.”
“You told them about that?”
He shakes his head in mild reproach. “Pen, I talk about you all the time.”
“Oh. Right. I guess you’d have to if we were engaged.”
“Sure that’s why,” he says smoothly.
Sarah comes back, clearly giddy but also wavering as though she might need a lie-down. “Oh, wow! I mean, Trent Jelly Legs Gellis and Roderick Rhodes in my living room!”
August straightens, becoming all polite business. “We’re going to get out of your hair now. Penelope, you got everything you need?”
“Ah, sure.” I put on my sneakers and grab my purse, and he picks up the last box.
When I set my keys on the hall table, I feel nothing but relief that it’s done and the rising anticipation of moving on.
“Well, Sarah.” August shuffles the box under one arm. “It’s been an experience I doubt either Pen or I will forget. While I’ll miss coming here, I am glad Penelope was able to move on to new lodgings so quickly.”
Sarah goes bright red. “Erm, yes. Well, that was good.”
“Hate to think what would have happened to her otherwise. But, luckily, she has a team behind her now.” He gives her his on-camera smile. “I have a little parting gift for you. From me and Pen.”
Smooth as silk, August pulls a small bag from the inside of his loosely zipped leather jacket and holds it out to her. Fingers trembling, she takes the bag with the delicacy of one handling a bomb.
As soon as she does, August clasps my hand. “Ready?” he asks me.
I nod, but my attention is on Sarah and the bag.
Gingerly, she reaches in and pulls out an envelope. I already know what’s in it, but her gasp still has me smiling. The woman lights up like Broadway as she fans out not one but four passes.
“Game’s tomorrow tonight,” August tells her. “Hope you can make it.”
Gently, he tugs me toward the door.
“Bye, Sarah,” I say as I go. She nods absently, eyes glued to her tickets.
We’re almost to the landing of the stairs when she calls out.
“Wait!” Huffing, she runs up to me and holds out two familiar mugs. “Lucy and Ricky. For your new place. I know you liked using them, and they should be together—with you.”
I take them with my free hand. “Thanks.”
She nods. “I’m . . . sorry for how I handled things. I hope you’re really happy with . . . everything.”
“Thank you,” I say again, with more feeling. “I will be.”
August leads the way down the stairs and out to the sunny street below. “That was good how you left things.”
Carefully, I tuck the mugs into the box he holds out for me. Wind coming down the wide boulevard whips the ends of his hair up in a mad mess. He’s impossibly beautiful and peering at me with kind eyes that shine bright. It’s all I can do not to hug him tight.