Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Chad doesn’t look much happier.
I wonder what’s going on?
“Earth to Sissy,” Charlie says, waving her hand in front of my face. “Who do you see?”
“Ava just walked in, and something’s off.” I shake my head and turn my attention back to my sister. “Sorry. Okay, tell me. Are you seeing anyone?”
“I dumped Jason,” she says, not sounding upset about it in the least. “He liked to pull my hair when we were having sex, and well, you know.”
Our father tortured Charlie by pulling her hair. Cutting it. Yanking it out. Dragging her around by it. The motherfucker.
“Yeah, baby, I know.” And I’d like to kick any motherfucker’s ass for not taking no for an answer.
“So, he’s gone. And now that the busy season is ramping up, there’s no time to date. Honestly, that’s okay. Men are too much work.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at a wedding.”
“Ew. No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not going to be a cliché.”
“You’re cute.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asks. “And is Tucker Hendrix hot?”
“I’m not seeing anyone.”
I don’t say anymore, and she waits, watching me. Strike that, she’s staring at me.
“Tucker’s an attractive guy,” I finally admit, and Charlie shimmies in her seat. “And no, I’m not doing anything with him.”
“Aww, why not?”
“He’s my boss.”
She blinks at me. “And?”
“And, that’s it. That’s reason enough, Charlie. There are lines you don’t cross.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re just taking care of his animals. You’re not opposing counsel on a murder trial. You’re not working on insider trading, or espionage, or—”
“I get it.” I laugh and reach up to pull my hair off my neck into a messy bun at the back of my head. “But I still work there, and I have to be there for a whole year. If we had something going on for a while, and then decided we can’t stand each other, things will be awkward and horrible.”
“Or, and hear me out here, you could start something really great that you both enjoy and end up falling in love, and then you get married, and you live on the ranch with him and all of the animals and live happily ever after.” She smiles big, waiting for my reaction.
“This isn’t a movie.”
“No, it’s real life, and you get to spend every day with a hottie. Unless he’s seeing someone. Oh geez, don’t be a home-wrecker, Sissy.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my chest. No one makes me laugh like my baby sister does.
“You just went from soulmates to mistress really fast.”
“Hey, both are possibilities.” She checks her watch and her eyes widen. “I have a meeting at a venue not far from here in thirty. I like Silver Springs a lot. I feel like it’s a hidden gem. It’s so cute, and not quite as touristy as Bitterroot Valley.”
“I like it too,” I admit. “Quite a lot, actually. It feels good here.”
“Then I’m glad you’re here.”
We settle our tab and then walk out onto the street. Charlie immediately steps into my arms and hugs me tight, the way she’s done since she was just a baby.
“Love you to the moon,” she murmurs.
“Love you more.” I brush my hand down her long hair. “Call me if you need me.”
“Ditto.” She smiles, and then she walks away, on heels far too high, to her car.
I have a meeting of my own, and then I want to do some baking before I watch hockey with the Hendrix family.
I love to bake. I’m not a great cook, but I can bake the hell out of a cake, or cookies, or well, anything. It’s what I do when I’m happy, sad, stressed. Pretty much any occasion calls for chocolate croissants or brownies or sourdough bread.
So, I spent some time this afternoon whipping up a strawberry cream cake, and now I’m walking to the back door of Tucker’s house to watch hockey and have dinner.
I texted Tucker a few minutes ago, and he told me to come right in. I don’t even need to knock. But that makes me nervous because his whole family is here, and does that make it look like we’re a couple? I pause outside the door and take a deep breath.
Am I overthinking this?
Yes. Yes, I am.
So, with my lip caught in my teeth, I open the back door and walk into the kitchen, where Tucker’s leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, muscles on full display, and it smells so freaking good in here that I immediately start to salivate.
Whether it’s because of the delicious smells or the delicious muscles, we don’t know.
We totally know.
But the best part is the way he’s smiling at me, with green eyes full of happiness.
“Hi,” I say shyly. “I brought dessert. And I know your dad’s diabetic, so it’s sugar-free.”